


The Purple Rose Of Erebor

by HobbitFeels



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, AU based loosely on "The Purple Rose Of Cairo", Ableist Language, Bilbo is a movie buff, Closeted Character, First Kiss, First Love, Homophobia, Lack of cynicism required, Love at First Sight, M/M, Magical Realism, No actual woobies were killed in the making of this fic, Or Is he?, Oral Sex, Shady as fuck Richard, Virgin Bilbo, Virgin Thorin, Willing Suspension Of Disbelief, the great depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitFeels/pseuds/HobbitFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo uses the movies to escape the grim realities of the Depression.  From his seat in the cinema, he falls in love with the dashing Thorin Oakenshield, a character in "The Purple Rose Of Erebor."  What does he do when the object of his desire literally walks off the screen, making his fantasy a reality?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cavalcade Cinema

**Author's Note:**

> Things to note--
> 
> *One does not need any familiarity of the source film to understand or enjoy the fic. Nothing is presumed knowledge.
> 
> *This is set during the Great Depression in New Jersey, like the source film. You can still imagine everyone with their original accents if you'd like, though. Bilbo's parents could have always moved him there when he was young :D
> 
> *The film Bilbo is watching is based loosely on the book version of "The Hobbit," but there is no 14th member of the company. In this version, Gandalf meets them at The Green Dragon, not Bag End. Because there is no Bilbo, allusions are made to changes elsewhere.
> 
> *Due to logistics and a story element, Thorin and his company are Men and not Dwarves, though Elves and Orcs are still Elves and Orcs.
> 
> *This is not a 100% shot by shot retelling of "The Purple Rose Of Cairo," though I have lifted several scenes from it.
> 
> *I am not a Woody Allen fan, but I've always been intrigued by the premise of this movie.
> 
> *Richard is only a character in this fic and his behavior here is not at all based on who he may be in real life. I've borrowed his name to go with a storyline in the source film. This is not RPS. Standard disclaimer--I own none of these people or intellectual properties contained within. This is just for fun.

The sign outside the building was not lit in the afternoon for matinee viewings, but Bilbo always felt a sense of comfort when the cinema's name came into view in giant, red letters: "CAVALCADE." He stepped up to the window, much as he had nearly every day for the past two weeks, getting one ticket to view "The Purple Rose Of Erebor." Today he skipped popcorn--it would be another couple days until payday and he had indulged too many times on this film's run already.

Settling into his seat, he still felt the giddy anticipation he felt at the beginning of a new film, though he had seen this one twelve times so far. There was something about that Richard Armitage, who played the lead role of Thorin Oakenshield, the deposed king of the great mountain kingdom of Erebor. He had seen him in several films (not to mention movie magazines) before and thought he was quite dashing, but he found him particularly appealing outfitted as Thorin. The hair, the beard, the bearing, and the voice all called to Bilbo in a way no other had before--and Bilbo knew cinema! It was his fondest escape from a life he found unfulfilling and a future he feared was bleak.

He lived as a confirmed bachelor because he did not dare tell anyone the truth: he was homosexual. Fearing the consequences it could bring, he had only ever confided in his mother. She gently encouraged him to move out, to move beyond, to find some other place in this world where he had a better chance to live a life in the open, or perhaps to find a vocation where it would be easier to navigate a world more hostile to those she called "sensitive." Artists, musicians, writers, and actors all had that air of plausible deniability--even the dashing actor behind his Thorin has been rumored to be a little what the press called _fancy_ \--but Bilbo did not know the first way to go about making a living in such fields. Unfortunately, his mother passed before he found his courage to step outside of what he knew and into a better life, so that was the end of it. These days, he lived under such a heavy cloak of secrecy, he had never so much as kissed another man. He did not know how to begin going about finding a companion.

Bilbo put on a brave front as though things suited him just fine, thank you, but he was desperately lonely and unhappy with his current lot in life. His parents were gone, he had no siblings, and he was essentially on his own, save for a couple cousins who looked in on him now and again. One in particular, Lobelia, had gotten it in her head he needed to get married and was continually attempting to foist her awful lady friends on him. He hated his job, working nights at a mill, but at least it gave him a distinct lack of coworkers and left him his days for the less expensive showings of films. Thankfully, his parents left him a modest place to live and a small savings, but the world was currently too unpredictable and too unstable for him to trust using it for silly things like better clothes or furniture. He kept what they left behind for him carefully, a part of him hoping one day he would take the leap his mother encouraged him to take, the other part saving it in case someone needed to bury him someday. The sole luxuries he allowed himself were his afternoons spent at the Cavalcade Cinema, lost in musicals, fantasy worlds, adventures, and romances.

The music began, once again plunging Bilbo into the beautiful (if dangerous) world of Middle Earth. Starting in a place called Hobbiton, Thorin's company met up with the wizard, Gandalf. Bilbo loved this land and the narrator's description of the people who inhabited it. Leaning back into his seat, he let himself be fully immersed in the film. After several viewings, he still giggled when Thorin's earthy men clashed with the posh Elves of Rivendell, still sighed for Thorin's beautiful voice when he sang of his homeland, and still bit his knuckles when they ran from the goblins. As though he was there, relief flooded his system when eagles came and saved Thorin from being beheaded in the pine woods. He had always hated how Thorin had to bow to Thranduil to be allowed release from his lands, knowing how much it had to have eaten Thorin up inside. Bilbo grew to love each member of Thorin's war party for their idiosyncrasies, but he loved Thorin's nephews (Fili and Kili) and his noble, loyal advisers (Balin and Dwalin) the most. No matter how many times he had seen the film, he was gutted afresh when Thorin, Fili, and Kili met their ends at the gates of Erebor. All they needed was someone to see the terrible Azog a moment sooner, to shout a warning, or to swing a sword and give him some distraction, and Bilbo was sure they would have lived. The nearness of it and his helplessness to do anything about it destroyed him at every viewing. Each time he wept shamelessly, broken, at the final shot of the rose growing through the heart of Thorin's stone tomb--the fabled purple rose that gave the film its name (although it was in black and white)--but it did not stop him from coming back again. The pain was close but the world was too exquisite, the characters too much a part of him to leave them for long.

Bilbo did not know what he would do when a new movie was brought in and this one got shipped away. Thankfully, "The Purple Rose Of Erebor" was a huge success and still in demand. The cinema manager told Bilbo a couple days prior that the movie was being held over an additional week. Bilbo vowed to make the most of it, preparing for the inevitable, sorrowful end of the film's run at the Cavalcade. He already had the characters and landscapes so well-memorized he could see them merely by shutting his eyes. He carried Thorin's voice with him to bed at night, the king murmuring endearments in his ear like a phantom lover.

 

****

It was payday, so Bilbo happily munched popcorn as he sat in the dark of the Calvacade Cinema for his second viewing of "The Purple Rose Of Erebor" in a row. Gandalf was meeting with Thorin's company inside The Green Dragon, wherein they would hatch their plan to take back Erebor. This was one of Bilbo's favorite parts. The fire flickering, the whole group together, and the beautiful, haunting song touched him so deeply, he could feel the pain of true longing in his chest.

_"Far over the misty mountains cold_  
_To dungeons deep and caverns old_  
_We must away ere break of day_  
_To find our long forgotten gold_  
_The pines were roaring on the height_  
_The winds were moaning in the night_  
_The fire was red, it flaming spread_  
_The trees like torches blazed with light._ " 

Transfixed as always, Bilbo had stopped eating, sat still, and barely bothered to breathe while the men sang of their lost home. The camera panned in on Thorin's face at the end, sending as many shivers through Bilbo's body as it had the very first time (and possibly more). After the song concluded, Thorin addressed his company with a speech Bilbo knew by heart. Something seemed different to Bilbo this time, though. Thorin wasn't paying attention to his men while he spoke. Bilbo searched his memory. Did Thorin always look into the camera like that?

"I would take each and every one of you over an army from the Iron Hills, for when I called upon you," Thorin faltered, seeming distracted. "For, for when I called up on you, you--you answered." 

Thorin was still staring into the camera so intently, Bilbo would swear Thorin was looking at him.

Gandalf and the men glared at Thorin in stunned silence.

Bilbo _knew_ this was not part of the usual film. Had he fallen asleep in the cinema? He tried biting his tongue and it hurt so, no. Thorin was still _staring_. Bilbo turned around to see if anyone noticed it, too. Of course, no one probably knew the film the way he did to understand anything was amiss. Looking back at the screen, Thorin seemed particularly fixated in his direction.

Continuing his speech, Thorin said, "Loyalty, honor, a willing heart...I can ask no more than that, and--by the gods, you must really love this film."  
"Me?" Bilbo replied, not trusting the sound of his voice.  
Thorin noted, "You've been here all day and I've seen you at least six times before, maybe more."

Bilbo thought this was madness. Thorin was talking to _him_. Impossible! Bilbo decided he must be having some sort of reaction...perhaps it was something he ate. He glanced down at the popcorn suspiciously, setting it aside. Thorin looked at him expectantly.

Bilbo gestured to himself, reiterating, "You mean me?"  
"Yes, you. This is at least your eighth time seeing this, possibly more before I noticed."  
Balin hissed, "Gandalf, come here, quickly."  
Resolutely, Thorin told Bilbo, "I've got to speak to you."

Thorin moved forward, the crowd gasped, and suddenly, Thorin Oakenshield of Erebor was in color, right there in the cinema.

A lady screamed and passed out.

Fili moved closer to the center of the frame. "Thorin? You, um, you seem to be on the wrong side of the screen."  
"Thorin Oakenshield, get back here! We're in the middle of a story!" Gandalf demanded.  
Thorin, still advancing on Bilbo, turned and held up a finger, "A moment, please, I want to have a look around. Go on without me."  
The other characters on screen were murmuring between themselves, as were the majority of the cinema patrons.

Bilbo's eyes were locked on Thorin the full distance, still disbelieving what they saw. Thorin stopped next to Bilbo's seat and leaned in.

"Who are you?" he asked, smiling charmingly.  
Bilbo grinned back. "Bilbo."

"I'll go get the manager!" one of the other patrons volunteered.

Thorin took Bilbo's hand, urging him out of his chair. "Let us get out of here and go somewhere where we can talk."  
"B-but you're in the movie," Bilbo sputtered, trailing behind and still holding Thorin's hand as he stalked down the aisle toward the side exits.  
"Wrong, Bilbo! I'm free!" Thorin proclaimed happily. "After 2,000 performances of the same heartbreaking quest, I'm free!"

Behind Bilbo, on the screen, he could hear the other characters shouting after Thorin.


	2. I Wanted To Meet You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of dialogue ported over and/or paraphrased for this chapter from the source movie. 
> 
> I added a couple sentences to Chapter 1 to explain the title, too, and it is alluded to in this chapter.

Thorin ducked out the front right exit. He pulled an agitated (but exhilarated) Bilbo behind, still clutching his popcorn. It was a depression, after all--he wasn't about to waste food. 

"I don't understand," Bilbo puffed. "What's going on? Who are you?"  
"Who _am_ I? You're the one who has seen the film no fewer than eight times! I would think you would know by now I'm Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, and rightful King Under The Mountain."

Thorin stopped them between buildings, peering past them onto the sidewalk. Bilbo pulled him rather forcefully back into the space between.

"Yes, I know you're Thorin Oakenshield, but you're supposed to be leading your expedition to take back Erebor!" he hissed.

Bilbo realized he was still holding Thorin's hand in broad daylight and let it go.

Resolutely, Thorin said, "Not anymore I don't have to."  
"What do you mean?" Bilbo wailed, completely confused.  
"I'm out before the battle. I'm free."  
Bilbo felt a little spark of hope. "But don't you have to fight? To die?"  
"Not while I'm here and they're up there!" Thorin said gleefully.  
"But--but all your friends are there! Your family! Everything you know!"  
"And everything I know crumbles! I'm left with nothing but a damn purple rose growing out of the heart of my tomb. That's morbid, Bilbo. There are only two places it could have come from and one of them is bare rock," Thorin grasped Bilbo's hand, taking them back again through the space between the buildings to go the opposite way. He shouted over his shoulder. "It is sort of sick when you think about it."  
Bilbo had nothing to do but go along. "I guess when you put it like that--"  
Thorin glanced around frantically when they reached another alleyway. He made a noise of frustration. "I can't stay so close to the cinema. I need a place to hide!"  
"Hide?"  
Thorin paused their rush to gaze at Bilbo. "Look, I'm never going back, now that I've met you."  
Bilbo stared at him, speechless, before quickly coming back to himself. "A place to hide, a place to hide...oh! Come on!"

This time it was Bilbo doing the pulling, with Thorin following faithfully behind.

*****

The manager entered the screen room.

"What's happening? What's going on?" he demanded from the anyone present.  
Replied Gandalf, "What's going on? Thorin's left the picture, that's what's going on. He just walked right out."  
Ori smushed himself against the screen, appearing from the theater side as though he were pressed against glass. "I don't know how he did it. I can't get out."  
"None of us can," Bofur chimed in, tapping it himself.  
Bombur groused, "Hardly seems fair, it being his quest and all."

The other dwarves were gesticulating and chattering amongst themselves.

"He left the picture?" the manager asked incredulously. He did not know if he was more flustered by his movie talking back to him or by the notion that one of them had escaped from the picture. "Oh my gosh, well, don't-don't panic! J-just stay up there and keep calm!"

The manager ran down the aisle toward the movie. The characters on the screen began talking back at once, with phrases like "What do you mean keep calm?" and "Where else are we going to go?" breaking through the din. 

"Can't you simply keep going on? There's an audience!" the manager pointed out.  
Dwalin answered, "No! Thorin was the linchpin of the story."  
" _Thorin_ was?" Gandalf said. "What about the greater quest? What about the power of hope versus the coming darkness?"  
"What about family and sacrifice?" Fíli argued. "What about Kíli and I never realizing our potential? Cut down in our noble youth?"  
"Well, what about me? What about my return to Erebor?" Balin insisted.  
Glóin added, "I'm to start a new life there! I invested everything! It is about my faith!"  
"I came for my brothers! It is about our fraternal bonds, regardless of our differences," Nori shouted.  
"It is about the redemption of my family name and my true birthright," a new voice said.  
Kíli looked up. "Bard? You aren't even supposed to be in this reel!" 

The patrons who still remained inside the theater were watching the drama unfold as though it were the movie itself. Some of them resumed eating their popcorn while the men on the screen bickered about their own importance to the story.

The manager yelled, "Stop arguing!"

The customer who fetched him said, "Perhaps you should turn the projector off."  
Everyone onscreen stopped shouting at each other.  
"No!" some of them yelled.  
Balin pleaded, "You can't turn the projector off! It gets black and we disappear! Who knows what will happen without Thorin? Without him, we might not even dream!"  
"Easy, easy, Balin," Gandalf soothed. "We're all in this together. They need him back as much as we do, don't you?"  
"I suppose," the manager said carefully.  
Ori fretted. "You don't understand what it is like to disappear."  
Dori moved to comfort him.  
"He doesn't, though," Ori insisted, on the verge of tears.  
Dori said, "Mister Gandalf is not going to let them shut us off, are you?"  
Gandalf peered at the theater manager out of the side of his eye. "He won't shut us off...not if he doesn't want to create a terrible incident," he said meaningfully.  
"What terrible? What incident?" the manager wanted to know. 

The barman wandered into frame with beer for some of the men. 

"Not now," Gandalf snapped impatiently.  
Dwalin grabbed a tankard. "Yes, now. Do you know a better time to drink?"  
Bombur grabbed one as well. "Thank Mahal this happened in the tavern. Now we don't have to starve!"  
The barman noticed Bard. "What's he doing here? He's not even supposed to be in the picture until Reel Six!" he complained.  
"No one is quite sure what is going on," Balin explained. "Here, sit and have a beer yourself. We're going to be here a bit."  
The barman eyed Balin suspiciously. "Is this some sort of hustle?"  
"No one is trying to hustle you," Balin assured him. He glared at Bard, "See what you did?" 

While the onscreen arguments began anew, the audience continued eating popcorn and the manager of the Cavalcade wrung his hands.

*****

"Here it is," Bilbo said, unlocking his door. He led Thorin up the stairs. "I think we are safe here for the time being. I don't know if anyone will know it is me you left with or not. The manager knows my face and my name, but he wasn't there to see us leave."  
Thorin looked around curiously. "This is where you live?"  
"Yeah, it is." Bilbo bit his lip, embarrassed of his shabby accommodations. "Do you want something to drink? Unfortunately, I think water is about all I have."  
"Water will be fine."

Bilbo ran him a glass from the tap and Thorin drank it down quickly. Bilbo fixed another. 

Thorin took a long sip and spoke. "Thank you, I was thirsty. I usually eat and drink at The Green Dragon, but I left before we got to that part."  
"Oh, what am I thinking? Here," Bilbo handed him the bag he had held onto like a lifeline, all the way from the cinema. "I'll figure out something more substantial in a bit but will that do for now?"  
Thorin peered into the bag, looking up at Bilbo with a bright smile. "Popcorn!" he exclaimed, popping a few pieces in his mouth.  
His eyes grew wide with wonder as he discovered this new flavor. "Bless me, that's what popcorn tastes like! I've been watching people eat it all this time. I've always wondered what the appeal was. I like it!"  
Bilbo inquired, "May I, erm, may I ask you something?"  
"Sure," Thorin said, munching another handful of his new-found treat.  
"How come you are not losing your mind right now over things like motor cars and electricity and traffic signals and all that?"  
Thorin swallowed and shrugged. "Newsreels and previews and that sort of thing. I don't know how it works, but we see whatever is packaged with our film. We wake up when the projector starts, even if it isn't our time to go on yet. It has enabled us to see bits and pieces of your world like that, and of course we've seen electric light and such from our vantage point onscreen--we wouldn't really exist without it, you know. Still, we took bets between ourselves on whether it was just a fanciful, fictional place or whether it was real. Nori, Glóin, and Dwalin owe me a pot of money right now, I can tell you."  
Bilbo laughed. "So they thought here was made up the way I thought Middle Earth was made up?"  
"More or less. I must admit to you, though--I am reining in a mighty urge to gawp all around me and take it in. I'm trying to keep calm so that I might impress you."  
"Gawp all you want. I can't help but be impressed by you, though I'm still not sure what is happening or why you are here."  
"I wanted to meet you," Thorin said.

Bilbo was not personally experienced in love, but he'd seen enough films to recognize the sparkle in Thorin's eyes when he spoke those words.

He said, "Thorin, I'm so jumbled. You mean to tell me you like men? Romantically?"  
"Yes."  
Bilbo squinted an eye. "What makes you think _I_ like men?"  
Thorin furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "I don't...I mean, I just assumed by the way you looked at me...do you?"  
"Yes," Bilbo said in little more than a whisper, scarcely able to believe he was brave enough to say it out loud. "I've only ever told one other person and that was my mother."  
"Why the secrecy?"  
"Isn't it taboo where you're from?"  
Thorin's expression was pained. "It would be pretty terrible if it was. How many women did you notice in the film?"  
Bilbo nodded his understanding. "Good point. So you could love another man where you're from? Live with him?" Bilbo asked, optimism rising in his chest.  
"Yes, and marry him if I so choose, though you know how the film ends. I never get that far."  
Bilbo explained, "It isn't like that here. I know there are men who love men, but they must be terribly careful. I've heard fanciful rumors there are places where it is easier to be homosexual, special cliques and social circles where it is more accepted, but not in my part of New Jersey. I've had to keep my interest hidden to avoid persecution."  
"But you didn't hide it from me, sitting in your seat, day after day," Thorin said softly.  
Bilbo quirked a shy smile. "I didn't know you were watching."  
"Don't tell me you didn't see me looking at you nearly every time I looked off into the distance, pensively."  
"No," Bilbo replied. "Wait, I noticed you looking majestically off into the distance, but I thought your line of sight was just the way the camera was aimed. I would have never guessed in a million years it was me you were seeking out."  
"The last several times when I looked out across the lake towards the mountain, I was actually looking at you."  
Bilbo recalled the mountain dreamily. "Ah, Erebor. It was beautiful."  
"It is nothing compared to you."  
Bilbo looked at Thorin with surprise. "What are you talking about? I'm nothing."  
"That's an absurd thing to say. You're fetching."  
"Fetching?" Bilbo asked bashfully.  
"Fetching."  
Bilbo looked up at Thorin. "Well, I must confess, you're the one I watched most up on the screen."  
"Really? Even with Kíli and Fíli?"  
"Oh my, yes. You're the one..." Bilbo trailed off, unable to tell Thorin he was the one he thought of at night.  
Thorin smiled sweetly. "I'm the one what?"  
"Well, you're my favorite," Bilbo settled for saying. The rest was far too much to admit.  
Thorin stroked Bilbo's forearm. "You're my favorite, too."

Bilbo heart flipped end over end inside him but he was a bundle of nerves. Though they were alone, he looked around to make sure no one could peer through the window while another man touched him so familiarly and gazed tenderly into his eyes. He wanted to trust what he thought he saw there. As unlikely as it seemed that Thorin could have developed a feeling for him merely by looking out into the cinema at him, it seemed much more unlikely Thorin could have left the very movie he was in and walk into the every day world. Oh god! The movie! What hell was breaking loose at the Cavalcade right now?

"Shouldn't you--shouldn't you be getting back?" Bilbo inquired.  
Thorin seized his hands. "Bilbo, I want to live. I want to be free to make my own choices."  
"Right now the country's not in such great shape, just so you know," Bilbo cautioned him, unsure how anyone would choose New Jersey over Erebor.  
"How do you mean?"  
Explained Bilbo, "We're in the middle of a depression. Everybody's very poor."  
"I don't know, from what I've seen, it seems like everyone's doing alright. People have things like motor cars, you've got electric light, you don't have to pump your water from a well...where I'm from, those things are unheard of. Before I left to take back Erebor, I lived with my sister, her sons, and two of my cousins in a place less than the size of your dwelling. Since then, I've been mostly sleeping on bedrolls on the hard ground. Compared to that, you seem to live rather well."  
"But don't they need you back in Middle Earth? The story doesn't work without you. The whole quest hinges up on you."  
Thorin countered, " _You're_ not in Middle Earth, Bilbo. You're here."  
"What do I have to do with any of it?"  
Thorin squeezed Bilbo's hands more tightly. "I'm falling in love with you," he confessed.  
Bilbo's lungs were suddenly empty of air. "Love? You don't even know me."  
"I know your expressions. I've watched you enough to understand you have a kind, compassionate heart and an unfulfilled spirit of adventure. You get a look in your eyes sometimes, a look that tells me you're trapped in your life just like I'm trapped in that movie. Deep down, you know there could be more, you yearn for it, but you've been unable to break free."  
"How--how could you possibly know that?" Bilbo whispered, stunned.  
"I told you, I've been watching you watching me. Something about you calls to me. Please, I want to learn about the real world with you."

Bilbo's heart thumped against his chest. Love was not for people like him and even if it was, love was supposed to take _time_. He couldn't let himself believe it, no matter how desperately he wanted to. 

"I-I," Bilbo stuttered.

Thorin's lips lightly brushed Bilbo's knuckles. "Look at it this way--how many times is someone so taken with someone else that he walks off the screen to get him?"


	3. Don't Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shock begins to wear off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More borrowed/paraphrased dialogue from the source film. I really love using the theater scenes.

“Okay, let’s not panic. We’re all adults,” Dori said, pacing nervously.  
“I’m bored,” Dwalin complained. “I’m an action character! I’m written for battle. I need forward movement!”

Three more figures entered the scene from the right. 

“Lord Elrond! Lady Galadriel! Saruman! Good gracious, what are _you_ doing here?” Gandalf asked.  
Elrond shrugged up his arms in confusion. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Where is everyone? Why are you all still in the tavern scene? You were due in Imladris ages ago.”

Someone in the audience whispered to their friend, “What’s Imladris?”  
Their companion, also having never seen the film, shrugged.

Bofur replied, “It’s Thorin. He’s scarpered!”  
“ _What_?” Galadriel asked, eyes wide.  
“The bum ran out on us,” Bofur said.  
Saruman boomed, “He can’t do that!”  
“Well, he bloody well did,” Nori said.  
“But we have to have the council!” Saruman insisted.  
Gandalf snapped, “Forget it, I’m tired of doing the council. You’re so condescending and frankly, I‘m sick of it.”  
Saruman shot him a dirty look.  
“Hold on a moment. Where did Thorin go, exactly?” Elrond asked.  
“Out there,” Fili gestured into the theater. “Into the real world.”  
Elrond clarified, “So he leaves and we’re stuck?”  
“It does appear that way,” Gandalf said.  
Elrond peered into the theater. “I wonder what it is like out there.”  
Saruman looked along with him. “It doesn’t look like they are having fun.”  
“Of course we’re not having fun!” A patron in a blue shirt yelled. “What the hell kind of movie is this, anyway! The paper said it was an adventure story!”  
“Quit your complaining!” Nori yelled back. “Do you think we like this?”  
A mouthy female patron stood and shared her thoughts. “Look at this! They’re just sitting around, talking and sucking back beer. Where did that manager go? I want my money back!”  
“Stop yer yapping. We’ve got problems of our own,” Bofur barked.  
The man with the woman stood. “You can’t talk to my wife like that! Who do you think you are?”  
Bifur gesticulated wildly and uttered a language none of the theater patrons understood, but the men onscreen laughed and whooped.  
“What was that? What did he say?” The man with the fussy wife demanded.  
Bofur put his hands on his hips. “He said we’re very important men and if that’s your wife, she’s a tub of guts!”

The other patrons in the theater cheered for Bifur, making Bifur look very pleased with himself indeed. 

The manager re-entered the theater, looking disheveled. His tie was loosened and he had recently been sweating. 

Someone in the audience said, “This is a miracle. A complete miracle, that’s what this is.”  
“Well, I don’t think so,” the man in the blue shirt said. He stalked over to the manager. “I want my money back.”  
“Us too!” The mouthy lady said. “We did not come here for a bunch of rowdy vagabonds to make nasty remarks at our expense!”  
“Oh God, is that what they’re doing?” the manager said, putting his face in his hand.  
“When they aren’t drinking, belching, and arguing amongst themselves. Vulgar, that’s what it is,” she sniffed. “I think I heard one of them say the f-word.”  
Kíli elbowed Fíli. “I think she means ‘fuck.’”  
The lady gasped in horror.  
A male patron put on his hat. “Here, if she’s getting her money back, I want mine back too. This is a swindle.”

The manager addressed the cast of the movie. “Look, fellas--oh, and lady, I didn’t realize you had joined them--look, I depend on the Cavalcade. I got personal expenses. I need to get a substitute picture in here.”

“The problem is this one has no story,” an as-yet-unheard from patron complained. He indicated a woman next to him. “Mrs. Lupus likes a story.”  
“Where is the Thorin Oakenshield character?” A repeat viewer asked. “I want what happened in the movie last week to happen.”  
Kíli scowled at him and crossed his arms. “You’re a ghoul.”  
“I’m a what?” The repeat viewer asked, taking off his jacket. “You come down here and say that!”  
The manager held him back. “Look, you’ll get your money back!”  
The guy with the mouthy wife nudged the manager. “You should just turn the projector off. This could be the work of Reds or Communists!”

The resulting hubub in the theater over the possible involvement of Communists was rivaled only by the panic on the screen at the suggestion they would be shut off. Elrond summoned his most authoritative bearing. 

He said, “If you shut the film off, you will strand Thorin Oakenshield out in the world somewhere. Do you truly want him running loose in your world with a sword and a head bent on family vengeance?”

The doors at the back of the theater opened and two new patrons came in. “Can we come in and take a look? We won’t stay long.”  
The manager met them at the top of the aisle and ushered them back toward the door. “No freebies. You want a seat, you have to pay admission.”

He walked them out into the lobby, finding a small group of people amassing, talking about the rumors of what was happening in the “Purple Rose Of Erebor” screen room. 

The manager sighed. “Go on folks. Buy tickets or keep moving.”

A man wearing rolled up sleeves and a similar disheveled look to the manager approached him.

“Any word?” the manager asked.  
“Yes, I managed to get someone from RKO on the line.”

The man with the mouthy wife came up behind him, along with the repeat viewer.

“You said we could have our money back,” the man said.  
The manager nodded, “Todd here will see to it. Todd, get them their dough back, would you? I’ve got to go talk to the studio.”

As Todd led the three angry patrons away, four more people bought tickets and went in to confirm the rumors with their own eyes.

****

“So times have been bad for you?” Thorin asked, eating some cheese sandwiches Bilbo made them.  
Bilbo answered, “Worse once my folks died, but that’s more of a personal thing. It has been bad for everyone, really, living in a world with no jobs and wracked by war. You probably have never even heard of the Great War.”  
Thorin swallowed his bite. “If it wasn’t in the newsreel, then I’m afraid I haven’t. I’m not a stranger to the horrors of war, though.”  
Bilbo clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh! I’m sorry, I-I-I forgot. I don’t mean to be insensitive. Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m so used to thinking of your world as a movie, but it isn’t for you, and so many awful things wind up happening and-”  
“Bilbo, shhh,” Thorin said, placing a calming hand on top of Bilbo’s. “It is okay. We’re adjusting to this, you and me. I understand.”  
“I didn’t mean to be so callous.”  
“No one who cried like you did during our battle could ever be called callous. You wept as though you were our kin.”  
Bilbo blinked. “You saw that?”  
“I did have a final soliloquy, you know, as we lay dying.”  
“Please, don’t speak of it. I could barely keep myself together when I watched it, but now that I’ve met you…I beg of you, let’s not discuss it in detail,” Bilbo said, his voice threatened with tears.  
“What made you come back, day after day, when the ending caused you so much grief?” Thorin inquired.  
“All the rest of it. Your lands, your companions, your journey…you. I couldn’t stay away.”  
“I’m glad you didn’t.”

Thorin and Bilbo looked into each other’s eyes, smiling. 

“Would you, um, would you like another sandwich?” Bilbo said, awkwardly dispelling the moment. “I think I have some more bread.”  
“No, after this one, I think I’m done. Thank you, though.”

*****

The manager picked up the phone where Todd left it, speaking into the receiver, “Thank you for taking our call. Is this the assistant to Mr. Hirsch?“  
" _No, Mr. Hirsch’s assistant is out of the office.“_  
“Oh, I see. Well, is there any way you can get Mr. Hirsch for me?”  
“ _Mr. Hirsch is a very busy producer with our studio, sir. He produced ‘The Purple Rose Of Erebor,’ which is currently our biggest film_.”  
“I realize that. As a matter of fact, that’s why I’m calling.”  
“ _I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Hirsch is not available without an appointment and he books days in advance_.”  
“Not even on the phone?”  
“ _Especially not on the phone, sir._ ”  
The manager pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I understand. Will you give him this message, and please understand it is urgent. My name is Scott Malkinson. Please let him know I have a theater in New Jersey and there is an urgent crisis with his film.”  
“ _The other line is ringing, sir. Hold please._ ”

A few minutes passed and Scott was about to hang up. “ _Mr. Malkinson_?”  
“Yes.”  
“ _Hold for Mr. Hirsch, please_.”

Scott looked up at the ceiling, silently thanking god. 

“ _Mr. Hirsch, here. What seems to be the problem_?” a voice demanded impatiently.  
“Uh yes, Mr. Hirsch, thank you for taking this call. Your character Thorin has left the film.”  
“ _Left the film? What do you mean_?”  
“I mean he came out of the picture, Mr. Hirsch. He left the theater with one of our patrons. The movie has frozen on the scene where he left and the other characters don’t know what to do.”  
“ _How could he leave the theater? He’s not real_!”  
“It is your film, I was hoping you could tell me.”  
Mr. Hirsch‘s tone changed. “ _So what is happening onscreen now_?” he scoffed.  
“Nothing. The characters are just sitting around, arguing. People are demanding their money back. When I left it last, the theater was nine tenths empty and three people followed me out.”  
“ _Take a walk, buddy. Time is money and I’ve got too much to do to deal with a crank call_.”  
“Oh, no! No, no, no, I assure you it isn’t a crank. There are witnesses. Please, Mr. Hirsch. I‘ve got patrons screaming about communism, the Lake Town guy from reel six is in reel two, and the entire wizard-elf-council-thing is sitting in the tavern in Hobbiton right now.”  
“ _Witnesses? Okay, Mister_ …”  
“Malkinson.”  
“ _Okay, Mr. Malkinson. I’m willing to listen. Explain it to me in full, starting from the very beginning_.”

*****

Bilbo sat on his couch close to Thorin, talking into the evening. He was terribly glad it was one of his nights off. He couldn’t imagine having to keep his mind on his job with Thorin waiting at home.

“My flat feet kept me out of the Army, so that’s how I came to work at the mill,” Bilbo finished.  
Thorin smiled, playfully touching the tip of Bilbo’s nose. “When you talk about it, your nose wrinkles distastefully, but adorably. You don’t care for your work?”  
“I know I’m lucky to have a job in these times, but not particularly, no.”  
“Millwork is honest work.”  
Bilbo shrugged. “But not particularly glamorous.”  
“Does it need to be?” Thorin asked.  
“I suppose not, its just…”  
“What?”  
“It might sound silly, but I think I'd like to do more creative things, you know? I want to write, maybe draw a bit, too.”  
“So you stay home to write and I’ll find a job to take care of the both of us.”  
“That’s not going to be very easy right now, getting a job,” Bilbo said matter-of-factly, though his stomach quivered at the possibility of a future with Thorin.  
“Well, then we’ll have to live on love,” Thorin flirted.  
“ _Thorin_ ,” Bilbo chided, secretly loving it.  
Thorin feigned innocence. “What? I’m merely thinking ahead.”  
Bilbo grinned bashfully.  
Thorin reached out and grazed the back of his hand softly down Bilbo’s cheek. “You’re stunning in this light.”  
“That’s movie talk,” Bilbo said, demurring.  
Thorin moved closer. “It is real talk. You’ve been skirting around the subject of us since I first brought it up, and I’m not nuanced enough in your world to figure why. All over your face, I see how you feel about me. I think I do, but you don’t want to discuss it, or you interrupt our tender moments with talk of cheese sandwiches. Tell me, am I wrong to think I see my feelings returned in your gaze?”  
Bilbo couldn’t believe this was happening. “No, you’re not wrong, but-”  
“-But what?” Thorin asked, pained.  
“But you’re not real!”

Thorin seized Bilbo’s face, pulling it to his. Their lips touched and Bilbo nearly swooned from the contact. He raised a tentative hand to clasp Thorin’s neck. At his touch, Thorin sighed and parted his lips, moving them along Bilbo’s with a gentle but insistent pressure. Bilbo’s instinct took over, mirroring the movements of Thorin’s mouth. The kiss softened and Thorin leaned back slowly, no longer kissing Bilbo but still cradling his head with both hands. 

“Was that real enough for you?” Thorin whispered.  
Bilbo sighed, “It was perfect. It was what I always dreamed kissing would be like.”  
“Then let me kiss you every night and every day. We can be here or we can run away to somewhere else. If you want, I’ll work in the mill in your place and you can write. I’d live on cheese sandwiches and tap water the rest of my life if I could be with you, Bilbo.”  
“I’m overwhelmed. So much has happened, I can’t--I still don’t quite understand what is going on. This all feels like some sort of crazy dream. I’ve spent the past several days wishing you were more than a flicker on a screen and now you’re _here_ and I have no experience with any sort of love at all and I don't know what I'm doing and I just…” Bilbo’s frenzied thoughts faded and he started to tremble.  
Thorin held him close and rocked him gently.  
“Shhh, it is okay,” he said, patting Bilbo’s hair. He kissed his temple. “My intention was not to upset you. I never want to upset you, my treasure.”  
Bilbo‘s voice came muffled from Thorin‘s chest. “I care about you Thorin, I swear I do. I’m frightened of what this all means.“  
“I can understand that,“ Thorin comforted.  
Bilbo pushed back and gazed into Thorin’s eyes. “But I’m also terrified I’m going to wake up tomorrow and it will be as cold and lonely as all the days that came before it. What will I do if you’re not here?”  
Thorin smiled tenderly, smoothing a hand over Bilbo’s forehead. “What if I _am_ here?”  
Bilbo looked up at Thorin, his watery eyes filled with aching hope.  
Thorin kissed him again, a brief but promising touch of their lips. “If we wake up together tomorrow, will you believe it? Will you believe that this is happening for real?”  
Bilbo nodded. “I’ll believe.”  
“Then we’ll talk about it in the morning,” Thorin said.

*****

Mr. Hirsch paced in his office, addressing his team of people. “How can Thorin have simply come off the screen? It has never happened before.”  
“It doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen for a first time,” one of the men said.  
“That’s all you need,” another chimed in. “Dozens of Thorins running around.”  
Mr. Hirsch scrubbed his hands over his face. “Dozens?”  
“Think about how many screens you have this on,” the first guy said. “It could be hundreds.”  
Mr. Hirsch made a noise of distress.  
The second fellow said, “As a lawyer, I advise you to get control. A character from the film on the loose? Armed? From a land where frontier law is probably the only justice? Who knows what he is capable of? I smell lawsuits.”  
“Lawsuits?” Mr. Hirsch said miserably.  
“If I were you, I’d charter a plane and I’d get over there fast.”

Mr. Hirsch took a deep breath and gathered his wits. He turned to one of the other men in the room. 

“Get me Richard Armitage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, supporters :D I'm so glad some of you are commenting <3 Love you!


	4. Okay, Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard gets pulled into the fray. Meanwhile, Bilbo and Thorin figure out sleeping arrangements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time difference between California and New Jersey is 3 hours.

The sidewalk in front of a California theater was lined with excited fans, velvet ropes, and dozens of reporters with their photographers. They nervously awaited the star of "The Purple Rose Of Erebor," who was making an appearance that night on his publicity tour. A Packard limousine pulled up alongside the carpet walkway that had been rolled out. Three men exited it immediately, waiting by the vehicle door for the final passenger. Dressed in the finest evening fashion, Richard Armitage emerged. Immediately, flashbulbs fired over and over. The men with Richard helped keep the throng of reporters in line, but because the point of his appearance at this particular theater was publicity, he posed for photos and answered several questions. 

"Mr. Armitage, is it true they are talking to you about the life of Charles Lindbergh?"  
"We're in talks, but don't print it until it is firm," Richard answered.

"Over here, Richard! Richard! How do you plan to handle your English accent if you do play Lindbergh?"  
Richard was obviously offended by the question. "Well, sir, I'm an actor. I suppose I'll act. We do have dialogue coaches, after all."  
"That's true, you were great in the film these folks are seeing tonight," the reporter answered, attempting to smooth things over.  
"Thank you, I was. Did you know I was singled out by the most prominent East Coast critics?"  
Three more microphones appeared under his face.  
"You were?" another reporter asked.  
Richard jutted out his chin proudly. " _The New York Times_ said that I had 'almost too smouldering a quality to merely play adventure characters.' You can quote that."

"Excuse me, Mr. Armitage. Back to Lindbergh, would you play him the way you played Thorin?"  
"No, of course not. Charles Lindbergh is the very embodiment of hope in this country. He is a beacon. Thorin pushed forward with a sort of grim determination, understanding his odds were not good. If he had any hope at all, he was not given the opportunity to luxuriate in it."

"Richard! Hello, Richard! San Diego Sun, here. Is there any truth to the rumor you are seeing Joan Bennett?"  
Richard grinned. "A gentleman does not kiss and tell."  
"So there's been kissing?" another reporter asked.  
"You lads cannot go jumping to such conclusions. It is a sure path to inconsistency," Richard teased, waggling a finger at them.  
"What about the rumors that you prefer the company of men?" someone else asked.  
Richard bristled. "I'll repeat my comment about conclusions. Thank you, gentlemen." His clipped tone made it clear he thought they were anything but gentlemen.

One of the men with him held up a hand and held the reporters at bay as the other two ushered him along. He said, "No more comments, thank you. Thank you, see you inside, enjoy the film."

On his way into the theater, Richard's agent grabbed him right away. 

"Richard! Thank god!" the fellow said, dragging Richard into the theater manager's office.  
"Dammit, Morty, how could you leave me out there with those vultures like that!" he barked.  
"You know I had to get here early to set up your appearance, but we've got bigger problems right now."  
"Bigger problems than reporters asking me if I'm shagging blokes?"  
"For the moment, yes. A couple good photos with you honeying up to some pretty ingenue from the studio will fix that in nothing flat. We've got a _real_ problem. Thorin Oakenshield has come down off a screen in New Jersey and is running loose."  
Richard laughed. "You had me going for a minute, there."  
"I'm not joking. I've spoken to Raoul Hirsch personally. Nobody knows how he's done it, but he's done it."  
"It is physically impossible," Richard argued.  
"It is New Jersey. Anything can happen."  
Richard paced. "But I created that character!"  
"That's my point exactly. Look, Rich, as your agent, I'd hate more than anyone to see something happen to your career, especially now."  
Richard froze in place. "You'd hate to see something like what happen to my career?"  
"Who knows? Your double is out there running around. He could be doing anything--robbing banks, molesting dames, molesting _men_ -"  
"Is he?" Richard asked, troubled.  
"It is anybody's guess what he's up to. He disappeared out of the theater with one of their customers--a guy. No one knows who it is, but who knows what is happening with all that?" Morty lowered his voice. "What could happen if he has your, um, _proclivities_ without your sense of public boundaries? What then? You think a couple stray rumors are bad now?"  
"But it is not my fault! He's not even me!"  
Morty put a hand on Richard's shoulder. "Hirsch told me if you cannot control your own creation, nobody will risk a picture on you."  
"I worked hard, so hard to make him real," Richard said quietly, still half-disbelieving.  
"Maybe you overdid it."  
"Fuck! Why is this happening to me?"  
"Hirsch wants you to fly out with him right away to check into it," Morty said solemnly.  
"Fly?" Richard repeated, horrified. "You know how afraid I am of flying! You promised me when I hit a certain level of fame, I'd never, ever have to fly again!"  
Morty shook his head in disbelief. "You're about to play Lindbergh and you don't want to fly."  
"I don't have to love flying to pretend I love flying!" Richard made a noise of despair. "No, no flying. I won't do it."  
Morty argued, "Richard, this has the makings to be the worst scandal of all time. Do you remember what happened to Fatty Arbuckle? It'll be a spring breeze compared to this."  
Richard leaned against a wall, burying his face in his hands. "Fine, I'll fly. I'll fly."  
"Good. Hirsch has chartered a plane and the studio will be putting you up at the Waldorf-Astoria. You leave tonight."

*****

It was time for the Cavalcade to close for the night and Scott Malkinson had a crisis on his hands. He was under orders from RKO to leave the film on until Raoul Hirsch himself could get to New Jersey to investigate the issue. Thorin Oakenshield was on the loose, the movie had turned into some sort of demented free-for-all onscreen, and somehow, the number of patrons inside the theater had grown since his phone call with the studio. He didn't want to kick them out--technically, the movie wasn't _over_ \--but he wasn't a hotel. He couldn't accommodate overnight patrons. It was bad enough he would have to remain there as it was.

After getting the customers and staff to leave, Scott addressed the screen. 

"I'm leaving you on tonight and sleeping here myself in case Thorin turns up. I've spoken to the studio and they are sending over people first thing in the morning to help us sort this out."  
"So what are we supposed to do? Hang around and wait?" Kíli asked.  
"Well, I suppose you could, um, do you sleep?" inquired Scott.  
Balin replied, "Sometimes we sleep when we're shut off, though shutting us off with Thorin missing is a terrible idea."  
"But you said it is awful, being shut off," Scott pointed out.  
"It can be," Elrond chimed in. "Sometimes it is nothing but horrible oblivion but sometimes--other times--we dream."  
"Right. Okay then," Scott said, Elrond's explanation not making any sense to his exhausted brain. "I guess there's not much for you to do, then, if you don't sleep while you're on, so to speak. Don't mind me, I'll be sleeping in the lobby in case Thorin comes back and thumps on the door."

*****

Bilbo had an entertaining few minutes showing Thorin how showers worked in order to wash up for bed. He didn't know which delighted Thorin more: the concept of running showers or the promise of being clean.

Thorin told him, "Other than the flashback, I started the film road-worn and stayed that way until the end. Getting truly clean will be a rare pleasure."  
Bilbo handed him a bundle.  
"Here are some pajamas, the biggest I have. They were my father's. You're quite a bit taller than I am and broader in the chest, so I'm afraid I don't have much else to fit you." Bilbo shifted on his feet nervously, suddenly realizing Thorin was going to be naked in his bathroom. "Um, I'll leave you to it. If you leave your clothes outside the door, perhaps I can get your shirt and trousers clean and rinsed out before bed."

Once showered, Thorin asked Bilbo to help him comb through his hair. Grooming Thorin and standing so close to him seemed intimate to Bilbo, more intimate than he had ever been with a man. It had been a night of firsts for Bilbo all around, and it wasn't over yet. There was still the matter of their sleeping arrangements. 

"I could always sleep on the floor or the couch if it makes you more comfortable," Thorin said.  
"I wouldn't dream of it, you being my guest. Besides," Bilbo looked to Thorin for reassurance, "I think I would like to sleep next to you, if that is not too brazen. Fully clothed, of course."  
"I was hoping you'd ask me, but I didn't want to presume."

They climbed into Bilbo's bed, side-by-side at first. Bilbo stared at the ceiling awkwardly.

"You seem nervous," Thorin observed.  
Bilbo confessed. "I'm not sure what to do. I want the comfort of you, but I'm not ready for, for-"  
"Do you trust me?" Thorin asked.  
"I do," Bilbo answered truthfully.  
"Roll over on your side and I will nestle behind you."

Bilbo did as Thorin asked. Thorin pressed against him and it felt better than anything Bilbo could remember. He savored Thorin's warmth, mentally cataloging everywhere he felt Thorin against him, from shoulder to ankle. He stiffened in his pyjama bottoms, mortified by his lack of control but also titillated by the sensations Thorin awoke within him. 

Thorin dropped a soft kiss at his nape. "You feel good to me," he whispered against Bilbo's skin.  
Thorin's hips shifted and Bilbo noticed Thorin's erection against him. He gasped as a thrilling tingle raced down his spine. 

Thorin spoke softly in his ear. "I greatly desire you, but I will not press you past your comfort."  
"Have you...known lovers?"  
Thorin stroked Bilbo's hip. "One would imagine I could have at some point, but 'The Purple Rose Of Erebor' was not a romance. If it was not in the script, then I have as little experience in that realm as you do. Our kiss earlier was my first as well."  
"Then why am I so timid when you are so eager?" Bilbo asked.  
"Perhaps it is because I am certain what I want and you are not," Thorin said, frowning. "I must confess, it is not a flattering thought."  
"This is overwhelming for me, but please understand that does not mean I am unmoved by you."

Thorin draped his arm across the front of Bilbo's body. In doing so, he accidentally brushed Bilbo's erection. 

"Oh!" he uttered in pleasant surprise.  
"Sorry," Bilbo mumbled.  
Thorin kissed his neck again. "Don't be sorry! I cannot tell you how relieved I am to have this effect on you."  
"Thorin..." Bilbo said hesitantly.  
"Rest assured, I am content to hold you simply as we are if that is your wish for tonight."  
Bilbo snuggled into Thorin's embrace. After a few minutes, he whispered, "Thorin?"  
"Hmmm?"  
"If I wake up alone, if something happens, I want you to know today was possibly the best day I've had in my whole life."  
With a delicate touch, Thorin turned Bilbo's face toward him, leaning over his side to kiss him softly. "Me too."

Settling back, Thorin held Bilbo close. 

"Please be here tomorrow." Bilbo spoke quietly but desperately. "I _need_ you to still be here in the morning."  
Thorin squeezed him. "I will be. You'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support, dears <3


	5. If I'm Me, Who Are You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains source dialog lifted & paraphrased.

Scott Malkinson roused the next morning to noise outside the door, but it wasn't Thorin. It was two reporter friends of his, tapping on the glass, asking for a statement. Unsure what to do, he promised them the producer of the film himself was due in at the Cavalcade that morning and asked them to come back for an official statement. Seemingly mollified, they left for breakfast, promising to return. Luckily, there were no crowds of people with whom to contend at the early hour. He wondered how the press caught on, and how long it would take for it to spread outside their little township and into something uncontrollable.

 

*****

Bilbo woke slowly, forgetting for a moment all that had happened the day before. Thorin's steady breaths danced across his skin, his eyes fluttered open, and he remembered. Reaching back, there was a man in his bed. Thorin. He rolled over to confirm it with his own two eyes.

Thorin stirred. "G'morning, beautiful."  
"You're here," Bilbo breathed.  
"Told you I would be."

Bilbo hugged him close. This was happening somehow, really and truly happening.

"Thorin," he whispered.  
Thorin kissed his cheek. "At your service."

 

*****

Richard Armitage, Raoul Hirsch, Mr. Hirsch's lawyer, and Scott Malkinson sat inside the screen room, speaking to as many members of the cast of "The Purple Rose Of Erebor" as could fit across the shot. Legolas, Thranduil, Azog, and a few stray goblins from Goblin Town had wandered into frame overnight to see why the movie had stopped.

"So you have no idea where he went?" Raoul asked the characters.  
"Not the first clue," Gandalf said.  
Raoul threw his arms up in disgust.  
"Understand, Mr. Hirsch, this is awful for us," Balin reasoned.  
Richard argued back. "You? Think of me! My reputation! My career!"

Kíli and Fíli exchanged looks. This fellow might favor Thorin in appearance, but they didn't much care for him.

"We've got to keep it contained," the lawyer advised.  
Scott shook his head, "The word is out already."  
"We've got to keep this crisis local, then," the lawyer replied.  
"I know the two reporters that are coming back. Maybe we can talk them into keeping this under wraps," Scott suggested.  
The lawyer said, "A couple of bucks spread around town should buy us some time, then. Good thinking."

"I know you are working things out amongst yourselves, but what about us?" Dwalin interjected.  
Ori pleaded, "Please, we're all so lost."  
Raoul nodded sympathetically and spoke with the practiced ease of someone used to placating studio heads and actors alike. "I know it is rough, Ori. I want the whole cast to know how much I appreciate you staying on the screen."

"I hope you aren't going to hold this against me, R.H.," Richard said.  
Raoul regarded him sternly. "You created this version of Thorin Oakenshield, Rich. The facts are undeniable."  
"See here! I want to go, too! I want to be free! I want out!" Legolas shouted.  
The lawyer stood and pointed, "I'm warning you, that's Communist talk!"  
Scott brought the subject back to the Cavalcade. "We're gonna have to pull the film out of the theater and you're gonna have to make good my receipts."  
"You mean you're thinking of completely pulling the film just because Thorin is missing?" Saruman asked.  
"'Just because?' Will you listen to him?" Richard said. He shouted at Saruman, "The plot turns on Thorin! I played him with a tragic sense of duty that transcended the ages!"  
"Who cares how you played him? He's gone!" Saruman shot back.  
Gloin reasoned, "We need to think about what to do if he stays gone."  
Richard made a noise of frustration. "I want to get my hands on him! Just when my career was taking off..."

Fíli and Kíli exchanged another look. Yep, definitely did not like this guy.

"You know, he could be assaulting that man he ran out of here with," Fíli said wickedly.  
Richard moaned. "He has my fingerprints! My exact prints!"  
Kíli smirked. "Wonder what the penalties are for unwelcome molestation in your world?"  
"Especially from an armed man," Fíli added.

A choked sound escaped Richard and he retreated to the back of the theater to bang his head against the wall.

Raoul turned, something suddenly occurring to him. "Say, does anyone know who the man Thorin left with was?"  
Scott shook his head. "Nah, it was all so crazy, no one noticed."

 

*****

Other than a couple sweet kisses, Thorin had not pressed Bilbo about their relationship that morning. Bilbo was glad for it. A part of him was ready to surrender to Thorin, body and soul, but his father's practicality held him back. They were from two different worlds--quite literally--and barely knew each other. What if Thorin was here a week and decided he could do better? What if Thorin hated New Jersey and wanted to return to Middle Earth? Bilbo still couldn't imagine Thorin's willingness to leave that gorgeous world behind, especially for him.

The two of them had decided Bilbo would take Thorin out and show him his town, do the food shopping (which he didn't do on payday because of obvious reasons, currently sitting in his living room), and otherwise simply spend some time together that afternoon. Upon seeing them the night before, Bilbo figured the the shirt and trousers Thorin wore under his traveling armor wouldn't draw too much attention. They were in a depression, and many people were wearing clothes made at home from anything and everything--most of which not nearly as well-crafted as Thorin's garments. He rinsed the movie dirt out of them last night and they did up quite nicely indeed.

Bilbo emerged from his bathroom holding Thorin's trousers and shirt in his hands. "They are still too damp to wear, I think. Damn."  
"I can't likely go around in just my leathers. They'll chafe," Thorin said.  
"You couldn't even if they didn't chafe. You'd be too conspicuous out on the street in traveling armor. You'd be spotted for sure."  
"Too conspicuous?" Thorin repeated. "How far do I need to go with this? Is it going to be as easy as getting different clothes or will I need to shave and cut off my hair?"  
"No, we'll just need to find you something else to wear, that's all, and even that is really only necessary if you want me to show you around."  
Thorin set his clothes aside and took Bilbo's hands. "I do want you to show me around--I would love it more than you know. Maybe, after you show me around, perhaps later you will be ready to talk about us?"  
Bilbo took a deep breath. "Yes. You'll spend a little time in my world, we'll get to know each other a little better, and then we'll talk. I promise. You sit tight, have some toast, and I'll be back in a little while with something for you to wear to go back out."

Leaving Thorin in the kitchen, Bilbo darted into the bedroom. He dipped into his parents' savings (stashed in his mattress) for money to buy Thorin some clothes. He paused, thought a moment, and brought out a little more. Bilbo decided he would very much like to treat Thorin to lunch in a real restaurant.

"Like a date," he said to himself, giggling and blushing.

 

*****

Richard sat in a phone booth inside a tiny diner not far from the Cavalcade, updating his agent.

"Right now it is chaos! How can there already be rumors circulating at the Brown Derby? Well, squash it, Morty. I've got a career on the line. Look, I'll call you the minute I hear."

He hung up and exited out onto the sidewalk. A short fellow walked up to him with his eyes wide, gasping, "What are you doing here?"  
Richard patted his pockets. "Sorry, if I had a pencil I'd give you an autograph."  
The man continued staring, not seeming to hear him. "Your hair! You took it all so seriously! I didn't mean to-" His eyes trailed down. "Your clothes! Where--where did you get those clothes?"  
"Um, a little store near Hollywood and Vine," Richard said.  
"What are you talking about?" Bilbo asked.  
Richard replied, "What are _you_ talking about?"  
"I just bought you these," Bilbo said, handing him a bag of newly purchased clothes.  
Recently having become accustomed to fan gifts, Richard didn't open to inspect it. "For me? You are too kind, really you are." He moved to go. "I hope you enjoy my next movie."  
"Hey! I live the other direction," Bilbo insisted.  
Richard felt uneasy. "Um, that's nice for you."  
Bilbo crossed his arms. "Thorin, what has gotten into you? Why are you acting so peculiar?"  
"Thorin? No, no, I'm... _oh my god_. Come with me."

Richard ducked into an alley with Bilbo.

"Thorin?" Bilbo asked, bewildered. "What has happened since I've been gone? You're not yourself at all."  
"That is because I'm not Thorin. I'm Richard Armitage."  
"What?"  
"How do you know Thorin?"  
Bilbo clapped his hand over his mouth.  
"Oh my god you're, you're..I don't believe it!" He began to laugh excitedly. "I've seen you in so many movies."  
"Where is Thorin?" Richard asked, trying to stay on task.  
"'Broadway Bachelors,' right?"  
"Yeah, well..."  
"'Honeymoon in Haiti?' You were a scream!" Bilbo nearly squealed.  
Richard couldn't help but grin in the face of such unbridled enthusiasm. "Thank you very much. I try to do one a year, just to keep..."

Richard paused, checking himself. He had to corral his ego and get back to the pressing matter at hand.

"Where's Thorin?" Richard repeated.  
Bilbo's grin slightly faded. "Why?"  
"He's my character, I created him."  
"Didn't the people who wrote the movie do that?"  
"Technically, I suppose, but I fleshed him out. I made him come to life."  
Bilbo smiled dreamily, thinking of Thorin. "You did a wonderful job. He's amazing, he really is."  
Bilbo's adoring expression was not lost on Richard.  
"Thank you," he replied carefully. He looked Bilbo up and down. "Say, what's your name?"  
"Bilbo."  
Richard grinned. "Bilbo. I like it. So, Bilbo, where is Thorin?"  
"Why?"  
"Has he done anything wrong?" Richard asked sincerely.  
Bilbo was concerned. "Like what?"  
"Stolen anything, attacked anyone...perhaps touched you in a way that was not welcome?"  
"Gosh, no! He's as noble as he can be," Bilbo promised.  
"I played him noble. It was well-reviewed."  
"It comes across."  
"Good. Look, I've got to speak with him."  
"You're not upset with him, are you?"  
Richard nodded, pained. "A little, yes, you must understand, but Bilbo, if I spoke to him...well, I know we could straighten everything out."  
Bilbo bit his lip. "I don't know."  
Richard rested a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Please," he said softly. "Please, I have a right."  
"Well, it has to be secret," Bilbo said. "He doesn't want to go back into the movie."  
Richard's heart sank. "He doesn't?"  
Bilbo shook his head. "He loves being free. He's having the time of his life."  
Richard's mind raced. "Will you take me to him? Trust me, Bilbo, please?"

Bilbo studied Richard's face. He seemed so kind and genuine.

"There's a playground up the street to the light, turn left, two more blocks and the road dead-ends right to it. I'll go get him right now and meet you there."  
Richard grabbed Bilbo's hands and looked into his eyes. "Thank you, Bilbo. You don't know what this means to me."

 

*****

Bilbo and Thorin arrived at the playground in the park. Thorin had dressed himself in the clothes Bilbo had purchased him before Bilbo tugged him out the door. Though they were far from evening wear, they were noticeably nicer than the clothes Bilbo himself wore.

"Mr. Armitage?" Bilbo called.  
"Over here."

Thorin walked up to Richard, who was sitting on a beam by the jungle gym. Richard stood and nodded brusquely.

"I'm Richard Armitage. I play you in the movie."  
Thorin raised his brows. "You do?"  
Richard's plan to keep his composure slipped the moment Thorin spoke. "How dare you run away?" he shouted.  
Thorin looked him over. "I must say, this is quite disconcerting, seeing a me who is not me."  
"Oh, I'll show _you_ the meaning of disconcerting," Richard threatened, grabbing Thorin by the shirt. "I'm trying to build a career!"  
Thorin struggled. "Well, I don't want to be in your bloody film anymore. I'm in love with Bilbo!"

Richard went slack at Thorin's confession and was shrugged off hard.

"Mr. Armitage! You said you weren't angry," Bilbo cried, feeling betrayed.  
"You can't do this to me!" Richard said to Thorin, shaking a finger in his direction. "This was my best role! I've been critically acclaimed!"  
"Because of the way I do it," Thorin said simply.  
"No, because of the way _I_   do it. I'm doing it, not you." Richard turned to Bilbo "It is me, not him. Isn't that obvious?"  
Before Bilbo could answer, Thorin asked, "How do you explain that here I am, then?"

Richard's voice grew steady, calm, and even, almost more frightening to Bilbo than when he was yelling. He moved close to Thorin.

"I took you from the printed page and made you live. I breathed life into you. Without me, there would be no you."  
"So I'm living," Thorin remarked, shrugging. "You've done your job."  
"But you should be living for the screen only."  
Thorin insisted, "I want my freedom."  
"Well, I don't want another me running around!" Richard argued.  
"Why? Are you afraid I'll embarrass you?"  
"Yes," Richard said frankly. "Or worse."  
"But you created me!"  
"It seems I put maybe a little too much of myself into your character," Richard said quietly, more to himself. Renewing his efforts, he tried a different angle. "Is life on the screen really so terrible? You're immortal."  
"Immortal? I die every show!"  
"And yet you rise to do it again. You don't get sick, you don't have to worry about rent or food-"  
"-I get my heart broken every performance! I watch my boys die alongside me. I don't have love or comfort or sex. I want to be with Bilbo. I'm in love with him."  
"You don't know the way it works out here, Thorin! Middle Earth is a fantasy world. Here, there are very real repercussions for men loving men. You have to keep things hidden. You can't hold hands or kiss out in the open. You have to make up lies for families, employers, and friends. One little slip up and BOOM, you could ruin your whole life. I'm personally at risk every time you say you love Bilbo out loud, never mind Bilbo himself."  
"It is worth it," Thorin asserted, crossing his arms.  
Richard turned to Bilbo. "Tell him, Bilbo. Tell him you don't love him. You can't--he's fictional. Do you want to waste your life on a fictional character?"

Bilbo looked between the two men, terrified to confess the secret of his homosexuality to Richard, but not wanting to leave Thorin with no support. The indecision froze his tongue.

Richard gently grasped Bilbo's arm. "You're a nice looking bloke, and you're so sweet. You deserve a human."  
"But Thorin is perfect," Bilbo countered.  
"He's not real, Bilbo," he reiterated, giving the arm a squeeze. "What good is perfect if the man is not real?"  
Indignant and jealous, Thorin walked over and stood between them. "I can learn to be real."  
"You can't learn to be real. It is like, like, learning to be short!" He glanced at Bilbo. "No offense."  
"None taken," Bilbo replied.  
"I say I can do it," Thorin insisted, turning to face Bilbo.

Richard looked between Thorin and Bilbo--who were both gazing at each other--and momentarily conceded defeat. This battle might have been lost, but not the war.

Richard said, "I'm not going to argue with you. I'm going back to town. I'm going to call my attorney, the actors' union...I won't take this lying down, nor will Raoul Hirsch, nor the police, nor the FBI."

He stormed off, leaving Bilbo and Thorin behind. Bilbo sat down hard on the beam. Thorin sat next to him.

"Was that bad?" Thorin asked.  
"Could have gone better. He's going to the authorities--the _big_ authorities. God, I'm such an idiot!"  
Thorin apologized. "I'm sorry."  
"No! I'm the one who needs to apologize. I brought you here! I thought maybe we could work something out, especially with folks out looking for you. Instead, I got you pushed around and now even worse folks will be looking for you."  
"It is worth it to me," Thorin ventured.  
Bilbo shook his head. "I can't see how."  
Thorin ticked off reasons on his fingers. "Well, I'm not bleeding in a field five times a day. I woke up this morning warmer and happier than I can ever remember being. I'm looking at you right now and you are the loveliest thing my eyes have ever beheld."  
"Oh Thorin," Bilbo said. "If we weren't out in the open right now, I'd kiss you."  
"Then let's go back home," Thorin flirted.  
Bilbo smiled. "Home," he repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and otherwise encouraging this little adaptation. I appreciate you!


	6. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin glanced at Bilbo and back down at himself, realizing Bilbo had bought Thorin nicer clothes than his own best. He had an urge to kiss Bilbo again, kiss him hard and kiss him all over, holding him tightly and never letting go. Instead, he swallowed around the lump in his throat. 
> 
> "You look wonderful," Thorin said.  
> Bilbo beamed. "Shall we go, then?"

Bilbo had not taken time to change for their outing when he first fetched Thorin, so they stopped by Bilbo's to get him different clothes. As soon as Bilbo shut the door, Thorin had him in his arms. Threading his fingers in Bilbo's hair, Thorin kissed him as he had on the couch the night before. Bilbo felt light-headed as they parted. 

"What was that for?" he asked.  
Thorin nuzzled Bilbo's nose. "You said you'd kiss me when we got home."  
Bilbo smiled. "I should probably get changed, you know," he said softly.  
"One more, please?"

Thorin leaned in for another kiss before Bilbo had a moment to answer. This time, he felt the distinct slickness of Thorin's tongue teasing at the seam of his lips. Without thinking or knowing why, he opened his mouth. When Thorin's tongue touched his, a bolt of electricity flew down his spine. He moaned in surprise and a rumble in Thorin's throat answered him. Thorin's exploration of Bilbo's mouth grew less tentative and Bilbo responded so naturally, so eagerly, it shocked him how easy it would be to simply turn himself over to this man entirely. He felt himself growing hard and his emotions swirled through his core. He backed away, embarrassed and overwhelmed. 

"What? Did I do something wrong?" Thorin asked, panting.  
Bilbo was flushed and short of breath himself. "No. It was all very _right_ , I assure you. I just--it was about to...I mean, I-I was about to...it felt good--so good--but now...maybe now is not the time to get into it?"  
"I'm sorry," Thorin replied, confused.  
"Don't be! Oh please, please don't be! I'd very much like to," Bilbo gestured toward Thorin with his hands. "again, you know, with you. This is new for me, and oh, I beg you, don't be offended. Look, I'll go get changed and we'll have our date, okay?"  
Thorin's smile returned. "Date?"  
"Um, yes? I'll confess, it is how I've been thinking of it."  
"Then please, get ready and we'll have ourselves a date," Thorin said, grasping Bilbo's hand and kissing it. 

In his room, Bilbo leaned against the door, his heart pounding. In his heart, he hadn't truly wanted to stop Thorin, and wanted even less for anything to wipe that beautiful smile from the man's face. Bilbo's nervousness and insecurity had taken over before he could help it. Oh, but that kiss was glorious, more glorious than the ones that had preceded it! He knew about tongue-kissing, but he never imagine it would feel so good or that it would send such needful shivers throughout his body. He wanted to lock the door and kiss Thorin like that from now until New Year's, but they needed groceries, they needed lunch, and Bilbo needed to get a better handle on himself.

*****

Bilbo emerged from his room, carefully groomed and ready to go.

"You look fantastic dressed like that," Thorin said.  
"Thank you! These are my very best shirt and trousers. I wanted to look good for you," he admitted shyly.

Thorin glanced at Bilbo and back down at himself, realizing Bilbo had bought Thorin nicer clothes than his own best. He had an urge to kiss Bilbo again, kiss him hard and kiss him all over, holding him tightly and never letting go. Instead, he swallowed around the lump in his throat. 

"You look wonderful," Thorin said.  
Bilbo beamed. "Shall we go, then?"

*****

Hirsch and his lawyer sat in Scott's office. The lawyer chatted on the phone with the studio back in Hollywood. With Richard having gone back out to see if he could find Bilbo again, Hirsch listened to his lawyer's side of the conversation with interest.

"Yes, yes, we found him. Well, Richard Armitage found him, actually. Yeah, what were the odds? No, he refuses to get back on the screen. R.H. is very upset. We can't force him, you know. It isn't a crime. We're working on a plan. It took a few bucks, but we've at least got the press on our side. They've promised to keep quiet for now. What? Really?" the lawyer looked rattled.  
"What? What?" Raoul prodded.  
The lawyer put his hand over the receiver. "We just got a call from a manager in Chicago. The Thorin Oakenshield at his theater is starting to forget lines."

Raoul dropped his head to the desk and covered it with his arms.

*****

Bilbo did not know much about local restaurants. He had spent the morning trying to come up with a place nicer than an automat or the little diner on his way to work, and it had finally come to him while he was dressing. He took Thorin to a cafe Bilbo always passed on the way to the market. He had never been there himself, but his father used to take his mother there for special occasions. He and Thorin had the nicest meal Bilbo had had in ages-- _three_ courses, and the waiter brought them water without them even having to ask for it! Remembering Rivendell, Bilbo helped steer Thorin toward less leafy options on the menu, making sure he got a soup instead of salad. Thorin said Bilbo's memory flattered him, but assured him--unlike Ori--he would not perish should he eat something green.

They had a lovely, relaxed conversation, enjoying the food, the atmosphere, and each other. Bilbo almost hated to leave, but there were other things to do. As they strolled on to the next destination, Thorin seemed endlessly fascinated with the world around him, particularly once Bilbo had assured him he would not think him any less suave if he were to give in to the urge to take it all in. Music shops, mechanics, the market--Thorin probably could have stayed out well into the night. On several occasions, Bilbo fought the urge to grab Thorin's hand or kiss him outright. Just as Bilbo had been showing his town to Thorin, Thorin had been showing it to him, too. Bilbo always felt like he lived in a dingy little neighborhood--on the wrong side of the Hudson from the land of hopes and dreams--but Thorin gave him new eyes. 

*****

As daylight waned, Bilbo and Thorin carried their groceries home. They had not spoken of it, but Bilbo had been hyper-aware of their surroundings all day, only allowing himself full relaxation in the safety of the cafe. The rest of the time, he had been keeping an eye out for Richard, the police, or anyone that might try to come take Thorin away from him. He didn't truly exhale again until they closed the door behind them. They kicked off their shoes and Bilbo encouraged Thorin to put his feet up while he stashed their groceries.

"I've walked much more than this in a day. I'm fine," Thorin said. "Here, why don't you sit, instead?"  
"I'm fine, too. I stand an awful lot at work and--oh! Oh shit, oh, shit!" Bilbo panicked, tripping over himself to get to the mantle clock. He wailed in despair.  
Thorin was at his side in an instant. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
Bilbo pushed past him to search for his work boots. "With you and the mess with Richard, I forgot I had to work tonight. I was due in an hour ago!"

Panicking more by the moment, Bilbo decided he didn't have time to change clothes. 

"Oh god, oh god, oh god. Thorin, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'm going up to the corner to call my boss and let him know I'm on my way. Oh man, I'm gonna get it for sure!" 

Bilbo ran around, hopping into one of his work boots on one foot, nearly toppling over. 

"Can you handle dinner on your own?" he asked Thorin.  
"Yes. Bilbo, calm down," Thorin said, stopping him for a moment. He cupped his cheek. "Two extra minutes is not going to make the difference. Here, let me help you with your boots."

He sat Bilbo on the couch, helping Bilbo into his boots and lacing each one up for him. By the time Bilbo's boots were tied, Thorin's soothing tone had helped him calm down somewhat. 

"I'll be home later tonight, if I still have a job," Bilbo joked weakly.  
Thorin pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. "I'm sure you're fretting way too much. Wake me if I'm asleep when you return. I still want to have our talk."  
"I will. Please, don't go outside and don't open the door for anyone, okay?"  
"I promise. Take care not to trip and fall in your haste. I think I'd prefer you in one piece."  
Bilbo affectionately squeezed Thorin's hand, grabbed his hat, and darted out the door.  
"I love you," Thorin said, knowing Bilbo probably did not hear him.

*****

All the characters onscreen at the Cavalcade were facing the empty theater, looking out at it forlornly.

"Anything happening out there?" Dori asked.  
"Not a thing. I didn't think I'd miss the miserable back-talking audience until we had nobody," Bofur replied.

Bard sighed, "Life is amazing, isn't it? One character out of an entire ensemble cast takes some action and the whole world is turned upside down."  
"What if he never comes back? What if we just drift until they decide to shut off the projector?" Ori whined.  
"Will you shut up?" one of the goblins barked.  
Kíli rubbed Ori's back soothingly. "He'll be back, I feel it."  
Fíli sat on Ori's other side. "Thorin wouldn't leave forever without at least telling us goodbye."  
"I don't want to sit around and wait. That's exactly what they want," Azog said.  
Nori asked, "Who?"  
"The bosses, that Hirsch guy, Armitage, and all the rest. Look at us, like dancing puppets, slaves to their scenario! Meanwhile, the guys out there are the ones profiting from our work. Our pain!" Azog said, growing agitated.  
Fíli rolled his eyes. "Oh, just you stop it."  
"Think about it, Fíli. Thorin and you lot have to die every time and for what? You don't die for Erebor, you die for them! You die so they can have a tragedy to sell."  
"You're the one who kills him, you great git!" Kíli shot back.  
Ori whimpered.  
"Stop it, you're upsetting Ori," Dori said.  
Azog held his ground. "But we're the ones who sweat and bleed! I say we unite and take action!"  
"Shut up and sit down!" Dori growled, advancing on Azog.  
Intrigued, Saruman asked, "What kind of action?"  
"You are all on my last nerve," the barman snarled.  
Galadriel stood, holding her arms out wide. "Hold on, everybody!" she shouted. "What if this is nothing more than semantics?"  
"How could it be semantics?" Thranduil asked.  
"Let us readjust our definitions. Let us define ourselves as the real world and theirs as the world of illusion and shadow. Do you see? We are reality and they are the dream."

There was confused stillness and many furrowed brows. 

The Master of Lake Town broke the silence. "You've been up on the screen flickering too long, blondie," he said dryly.  
"Yeah, I have been betting Thorin that's the way it was all along," Glóin said. "I owe the miserable bampot practically my whole pouch of coin."

*****

In a move of desperation, Richard sat in the diner on the street where he ran into Bilbo. He reasoned because Bilbo was able to get to Thorin fairly quickly from that spot and knew the streets well enough to give directions, it was very likely his neighborhood. He hoped to catch Bilbo walking down the sidewalk. He had to get another chance to speak with him.

He couldn't believe his luck when Bilbo ducked into the diner's phone booth. He moved closer, trying to overhear his conversation.

"No, but Mr. Riley...yeah, I know. I know that, too. Yes, I realize I'm incredibly lucky to have a job in times like these but it wasn't even a full missed shift! I'm on my way now. It was a mistake. I _know_ you have a business to run but--" Bilbo gripped the phone and his voice grew more frantic. "You can't mean that! It was only once in the whole time I've...but...please, I swear I'll do...hello? Mr. Riley?"

Bilbo slowly hung up and slunk out of the phone booth. 

Richard called for his attention. "Bilbo? I was hoping to run into you."  
Bilbo glanced up at Richard, a dejected look on his face.  
"Has something happened?" Richard inquired.  
Replied Bilbo somberly, "I was just fired."  
Richard frowned. "That's terrible! I'm sorry to hear that."  
"It was partially your fault, you know," Bilbo remarked bitterly. "Your encounter with Thorin today rattled me. I've been so worried about the cops coming and hauling one of us away that I forgot I had work tonight."  
"Oh, gosh," Richard removed his hat and scrubbed his hand over his forehead. "I'm sorry. I've been thinking about that, the things I said, losing my temper."  
"You told me you weren't going to be angry if I brought him!" Bilbo fussed, crossing his arms.  
"Now, that's not entirely true--I _told_ you I was a little upset with him. Still, I wasn't planning on confronting him so harshly, I really wasn't! It came as a surprise to me, too. I felt bad about it afterwards, and I felt twice as bad about how much it obviously upset you. As a matter of fact, I've been sitting here all afternoon, hoping you would walk by again so that I may apologize."  
Bilbo glanced up, his cross expression giving way to surprise. "You were waiting...for me?"

Bilbo noted Richard's expression, his very _eyes_ pleaded for forgiveness. 

Richard said, "I'm sorry for the way it happened this afternoon, and I'm more sorry it upset you enough that it cost you your job. None of that was my intent."  
Bilbo thought of the other, more joyous things that played a part in causing him to forget about work. He said, "Well, I suppose it wasn't entirely your fault."  
"It's just--I got so upset when he said he wasn't going to go back. Listen, I don't know what to do. I've struggled my whole life and now, finally when I'm beginning to break through, my whole career is going down the drain," Richard said, anguished.  
Bilbo was moved to comfort him. "You don't have to worry about your career. You'll always be a great movie star."  
"That's nice of you to say, but I'm not technically a true star yet, not really. They can still make me fly."  
"What?"  
"Nevermind."  
"But you are a star, Mr. Armitage," Bilbo insisted.  
"Richard, please."  
Bilbo quirked a small smile. "Richard. You are a star. You are an amazing actor. You've gotten an entire country--the world, likely--so invested in what happens to Thorin's character that we are moved to weep for him. If that isn't a star, I don't know what is."  
"Well, I try to carry myself like a star, but...I don't...wow, that's a big word isn't it, star?" Richard beamed with pride.

Bilbo was glad Richard no longer looked as though he might cry, so he continued his praise.

"Oh, and you're not just a pretty face, either. You're a peach of an actor. Truly, I've seen you a lot and you've got something, you really do."  
"You think so? That's your honest opinion?" Richard sounded almost surprised.  
"Of course it is. You know, I see all the movies. Since my parents passed, all I do is watch movies, sleep, and work. You've got a, a, a magical glow about you."  
Richard smiled boyishly. "Oh goodness, that's just...to hear that from a real person, someone who is a true movie aficionado, not just one of these movie colony bimbos or studio sycophants...gosh, Bilbo. You flatter me too much, someone with your film acumen."  
Bilbo bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know about all that, I just know what moves me."

Richard scooted into a booth seat and patted the space alongside him. 

"Would you sit down here with me, next to me for a moment, please?"  
Bilbo sat, trying not to crowd him on the stout bench.  
"So you really think so? That I've got a glow?" Richard pressed.  
"Take it from me, you aren't just a flash in the pan," Bilbo assured him. "Anyone who could create a Thorin Oakenshield has an amazing future."  
"You know, I could have traded on my looks, just like that." Richard snapped his fingers to emphasize his point.  
"Sure you could," Bilbo agreed.  
"But I have serious acting ambitions," Richard insisted. "I've done comedies, I've done the adventure-dramas, but I want to branch out into more. The nation is in a slump--I want to give the people real hope, you know?"  
Bilbo nodded in agreement. "I think you should try to get more heroic parts."  
"I tell my agent that all the time!" Richard exclaimed, pleased.  
"You could do that Charles Lindbergh picture the magazines have been hinting about. Oh, you'd be a wonderful Lindbergh!"  
Richard smiled widely. "You are reading my mind!"  
"Really?"  
"Yes! I'm on the verge for signing for that part!"  
"No!" Bilbo replied, pleased with himself he guessed such a thing.  
"That's a secret, between you and me," Richard whispered conspiratorially.  
"You'll be simply wonderful!"  
"Some of my people have been cautioning me not to, though," Richard said, smile fading. "They think I might not be able to handle a role designed to uplift a nation."  
"Don't you listen! If you're deep and complicated enough for Thorin, you can handle the brighter nuances of Charles Lindbergh. You've got the depth and and intelligence for it for sure."  
Richard bit his lip, glancing down at his hands and back up at Bilbo. "Look, Bilbo, can I buy you dinner?"  
Bilbo hesitated. "Oh, I don't know. I just got fired on my way into work and Thorin is at home."  
Richard explained, "He doesn't know you've been fired yet, and with the whole weird issue with the 'Purple Rose Of Erebor,' it isn't very well like we can take him with us, even if he was sweet enough to forgive me like you were. He's probably not expecting you for a few hours, and if you're out of a job, a free meal probably wouldn't go unwelcome, am I right?"  
"I...guess not," Bilbo said cautiously.  
"Please, Bilbo, it's just that I enjoy talking to you so much. I open up around you like no other. I also feel a bit of responsibility, losing you your job and all that. I would feel an awful lot better if I could make it up to you a bit."  
"Well, okay," Bilbo agreed. "Are you ready to go up to the counter?"  
Richard smiled at Bilbo. "Oh, we won't be eating here. Come on."

They walked until Richard could get a taxi cab. Richard held the door for Bilbo to get in.

"Where to?" the driver asked.  
"The Waldorf-Astoria, New York City," Richard replied matter-of-factly.  
"What?" Bilbo and the driver asked at the same time.  
"The Waldorf-Astoria, New York City," Richard repeated.  
The driver shrugged. "Okay, buddy" he sighed. "It's your dime."

Bilbo nearly fainted. He was going to New York City, with a movie star, _in a taxi_ , in the middle of a depression. 

Suddenly, Thorin walking off the screen and into real life was no longer the most unbelievable thing to have happened to him in the past two days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, dears!


	7. The President Wears Frilly Lace Panties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner was swank--Bilbo was sure the eventual bill would equal a week's pay, possibly two. Richard had ordered a bottle of champagne, which was Bilbo's first. As they ate their meal, the room slowly filled up. By the time their plates were cleared, a band had started. 
> 
> Richard moved to top off Bilbo's glass. 
> 
> "Oh, not too much," Bilbo said. "I'm already feeling a little warm. I don't drink often."  
> Cheerfully, Richard said, "This is my apology dinner, I have to make it good, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this is a fictional Richard and not our gallant Richard <3

Bilbo had been to New York before, but it had been years. The cab pulled up to a beautifully ornate building and Richard paid the driver what was likely a whole day's work for Bilbo, maybe more. 

"What are we doing here, exactly?" Bilbo asked.  
Richard replied, "I told you, dinner. I need to change and make some arrangements."

Bilbo sat on an elaborately carved bench (with a tufted, quilted top!) while Richard spoke with the concierge. He gestured in Bilbo's direction and Bilbo was acutely aware of how awfully out of place he was. For the first time in a long time, he felt shame. At least in his town, they were all more or less in similar predicaments, working hard for a living and trying to avoid the bread line. 

Richard came back. "I'm sorry Bilbo, but they don't have a house jacket to fit you. The dining room has a dress code."  
The shame intensified. Bilbo said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your plans."  
Richard patted his arm. "It isn't as though I gave you an opportunity to put on something better than your work clothes. I'd loan you something of mine but our sizes are quite different."

Bilbo wanted the floor to swallow him. Richard assumed these were his regular work clothes, not knowing these were the best things he owned. His embarrassment ran so hot, he nearly cried from it.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Richard tipped his chin up. "I told you it is fine. I have a better idea, anyway. Come on."  
Richard moved toward the elevators.  
"Where are we going?"  
"To my room."  
"Y-your room?" Bilbo stuttered.  
"I still need to change. I've been in these clothes since early this morning."  
Bilbo sat. "Oh, okay. I'll wait."  
Confused, Richard studied Bilbo before speaking again. "Well, I won't take long," he promised.

*****

Scott Malkinson lay on his back in his office, stretched between two chairs he made into a makeshift resting spot. His hand shielded his eyes from the overhead light because he had a splitting headache.

Scott's assistant manager Todd hung up the phone. "It has been confirmed."  
"I was afraid this was going to happen. I called it, didn't I call it?" Hirsch said. "Give me the details."

Todd said, "Thorin Oakenshield has tried to leave the screen in Chicago, Detroit, St. Louis, and Denver...and he almost made it out in Detroit."  
"It looks bad," the lawyer said.  
"The movie houses in those towns are in pandemonium," Todd said. "There's no way to keep the lid on it."  
"I see lawsuits," the lawyer moaned. "Hundreds and hundreds of lawsuits."  
Raoul said, "We're going to have to pull the picture out of release."  
"In those towns?" Todd asked.  
"No, everywhere," Raoul replied. "Something's obviously gone very wrong, here. The best course of action is to shut it down, take our losses, and get out of this mess before it gets really out of hand."  
"Sheesh, could you imagine hundreds of Thorin Oakenshields running around wild? Swords and all?" Todd asked.  
The lawyer gestured toward Raoul. "And you legally responsible for every one of them."  
Raoul shook his head wistfully. "The best thing to do is to quit while there is only one out there."  
"What will you do about him?" Todd asked.  
"We get him back in the picture, shut it off, and vault the print," Raoul said.  
"And the negative," the lawyer chimed in.

Scott's voice came up from his makeshift bed, pained from his headache. "Shame. It was such a good picture."

*****

Fascinated and astonished by the opulence surrounding him, Bilbo was shaken from his reverie by the soft ding of the elevator. Richard emerged, having changed into something a bit more casual but still looking like a gorgeous movie star. He paused to speak to a bellman, who retrieved another bellman. Whispers were exchanged and he handed Richard a piece of paper. Richard handed him back what looked like cash and the two parted as though nothing happened.

"Are you ready?" Richard asked.  
"Sure. What was that about?"  
Richard grinned. "I did him a little favor and he did me one right back. It is possible to have particular itches scratched if you know who to talk to. I have to be careful, being famous, but connections in certain circles have their own reasons to stay discreet."

Bilbo didn't understand, but he didn't press further. 

The concierge picked up a needlessly ornate phone, said a few words, and directed a bellman to see Richard and Bilbo out. A gorgeous car pulled around--Bilbo recognized it from movies and movie magazines as a Dusenberg--and a man held the door for Bilbo and Richard. Richard handed him a slip of paper for the destination and settled back.

"This car is amazing," Bilbo breathed.  
"It belongs to the hotel. We can thank the studio for the use of it tonight."  
"Really?" Bilbo asked.  
Richard winked. "It pays to be a little famous."  
"So, where are we going now?"  
"A special place for dinner and a bit of nightlife. I had not originally planned to eat there, though it is hardly a hardship. It doesn't get busy until later, though, and when the crowd gets there, it goes all night. Tell me, Bilbo," Richard's tone changed to nearly a purr. "Do _you_ go all night?"

Bilbo was too busy with his nose pressed against the window, taking in the city, to catch the seductive hint.

Obliviously, he replied, "I'm used to working nights, so I usually stay up later, anyway."

The driver glanced back at Richard in the mirror, smirking.

"Just drive," Richard muttered. 

They arrived in front of a nondescript building. Richard slipped the driver a tip and told him to wait, then he led Bilbo around the back, through a dingy alley.

"He's just going to wait? Out there?" Bilbo said.  
Richard shrugged. "It is his job. I gave him extra, though. We'll be a while."  
Bilbo stopped. "Um, am I...am I going to stick out in there? The way I'm dressed? I don't want to humiliate myself...or you."  
"Trust me when I tell you people inside will be more wrapped up in what they are doing than worry about you. Besides," Richard grinned, "they are very fashion forward. They might think you are onto some sort of new movement they don't know about yet. Just act like you belong and no one will bother you about it."

Richard walked Bilbo along the back of the building, counting doors until he found the right one. He walked up four concrete stairs and knocked. The peep-slot opened. 

"What do you know?" A voice asked.  
"I know the president wears frilly lace panties," Richard answered.

Bilbo almost choked in surprise, but the door opened. Grinning, Richard turned to him, offering an arm. "Shall we?"

Bilbo walked down a dim hallway that opened into a wide open room. There was a small bandstand in the corner, a dance floor, and several elaborately set tables set up in the room, some of them occupied. Richard spoke to someone who walked them down to a table of their own. The place was not full, as Richard had predicted, but Bilbo noticed the couples that were there were pairs of women, or pairs of men, and they were not worried in the slightest about being openly affectionate. 

"What is this place, Richard?" Bilbo asked.  
"It is a haven for people who crave the company of their own sex or more complicated entanglements besides. What happens inside this building stays here, blind to the prejudice that exists outside the door."  
Bilbo looked around. "I'd heard talk and rumor about such things, but I didn't think I'd ever see it for myself. This is amazing."  
"Places like this exist all over, but discretion is key to their very existence. Though my profession makes such behaviors risky, it also opens doors...in cases like this, quite literally."

They were given two menus. Bilbo glanced down at his nervously and coughed. "So it is true, then? You're, um, homosexual?"  
"I am. I'm guessing you heard the rumor from that shrew Hedda Hopper? Wretched cow."  
Bilbo backpedaled. "Oh, but it isn't like anyone believes it, you know. You're always photographed with the most beautiful women. You keep your secret well. Besides, I think having a stray rumor here and there might help you."  
"Help me?" Richard scoffed. "How?"  
"Your homosexual fans probably like to have some hope, you know. Hope that someone like you shares something in common with them, hope that they, too, might gain nationwide success, that sort of thing."  
Richard nodded thoughtfully. "I hadn't really looked at it from that perspective. It isn't enough for me to announce it from the top of the Waldorf or anything, but I'll remember that the next time a reporter asks me something untoward."

*****

Thorin wandered around Bilbo's home, taking it all in. He hadn't had much time for exploration, save for this morning when Bilbo had run out, but then he had been busy making breakfast. He glanced at photographs in frames and ran his fingers along the spines of Bilbo's books. The day before, they discovered what his folk referred to as Common language was the same thing Bilbo called English. He pondered reading one of the books--perhaps one of the more worn volumes that Bilbo obviously treasured--but was distracted by the radio. He remembered learning about them from a newsreel. Fiddling with it, he managed to get it to come on--loudly. He had inadvertently turned the volume to full while he was trying to get it to work. Quickly gaining control of the situation, he fiddled with the knobs until a pleasurable music filled the air.

He relaxed on the couch, wondering what the rest of the cast were doing at the moment. He knew it was a matter of time before someone--Richard, this Hirsch guy, or someone otherwise official--shut the film off. He hoped they would be able to dream. An unexpected tear slid down his face. He surely would miss his family and his friends...but he thought he would miss Bilbo more.

*****

Dinner was swank--Bilbo was sure the eventual bill would equal a week's pay, possibly two. Richard had ordered a bottle of champagne, which was Bilbo's first. As they ate their meal, the room slowly filled up. By the time their plates were cleared, a band had started.

Richard moved to top off Bilbo's glass. 

"Oh, not too much," Bilbo said. "I'm already feeling a little warm. I don't drink often."  
Cheerfully, Richard said, "This is my apology dinner, I have to make it good, right?"  
"You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me," Bilbo said.  
Richard gazed at him. Softly, he said, "Why wouldn't I? You're extraordinary."  
Bilbo covered his mouth for a small champagne burp, shaking his head shyly.  
Richard hummed a laugh. "Come on, let's dance." he said.  
"Two men? Dancing together?" Bilbo said incredulously, though he still let Richard lead him by the hand.  
"In case you haven't figured it out yet, we can do that here."

Bilbo had noticed the couples on the floor were pairs of the same sex. Some of them were dancing suggestively, rubbing and kissing as they moved. Richard took hold of him in a more traditional stance. Bilbo needed a moment to get used to someone else leading, but soon he was moving easily.

"Hey! You're good!" Richard said.  
"My mother taught me."  
"You're just full of surprises. So, have you ever been to Hollywood?"  
"Me?" Bilbo laughed. "Come on! No, never. This is the first time I've even been to New York since I was a teenager."  
Richard's face showed surprise. "With as much as you love movies? That is a crime. I would love to take you to Hollywood."  
"Me? In Hollywood? That's wild talk," Bilbo said dismissively.  
"Not as wild as you think. Can I make a confession? My name is not actually Richard Armitage. It's Herman Bardebedian. When I moved over from England, I drove a cab."  
Bilbo blinked rapidly "Really?"  
Richard said, "The most famous person you can think of was once just some guy somewhere with a dream, Bilbo. Come on, what's your dream?"  
Bilbo felt shy, but he answered. "When I was young, I wanted to be a singer or an actor. I've thought lately about taking a stab at writing, but I don't know. Seems risky."  
"Maybe if you visited Hollywood, you could be my vocal coach or my screenwriter," Richard said.  
"Oh stop," Bilbo said, skeptical.  
Richard shrugged. "You don't know if you don't try. Would it help if I admitted to you my other childhood ambition was to be a classical cellist? Never could play worth a damn."  
"You _sing_ beautifully, though," Bilbo remarked. "You certainly don't need me for a vocal coach when you already sing better than I can. That song you sing in 'The Purple Rose Of Erebor' makes the hair on my arms stand up every time. Maybe after the Lindbergh movie, you could do a musical."  
"I did have a bit in one once."  
"Yes, 'Dancing Doughboys.'" Bilbo noted.  
"'Dancing Doughboys!' You remembered!" Richard exclaimed, beaming.  
"I remember, you turned to Ina Beasley and you said, 'I won't be going South with you this winter.'"  
"That's right! Then I said, 'We have a little score to settle on the other side of the Atlantic.'"  
Bilbo quoted, "'Does this mean I won't ever see you again?'"  
"'Well, ever is a long time.'"  
"'When you leave, don't look back,'" Bilbo recited, looking into Richard's eyes.  
"You remembered that perfectly. Then I took her in my arms and I kissed her, knowing it was for the last time," Richard stopped dancing. "God, you're so handsome, Bilbo."  
Disconcerted by his gaze, Bilbo blurted out awkwardly, "Was it hard, kissing Ina Beasley?"  
"Well, I would have preferred Errol Flynn, but it was fine. It was just a movie kiss, you know. We professionals can put that stuff on just like that."  
"I would never have guessed you were homosexual," Bilbo said dreamily. "It really looked like you were in love with her."

Richard gazed at him and Bilbo was lost to the pure Thorin-ness of his expression, particularly when it was loaded with such affection, that he did not resist or protest when Richard kissed him. Richard leaned in more, adding pressure to his slightly parted lips as they moved, but not yet tempting Bilbo with the delicious slick of a tongue that had him nearly unglued with Thorin. 

When they parted, Richard took Bilbo's hand and placed it on his chest. "Oh my goodness, feel my heart," he whispered.

Bilbo was sure Richard could feel him quivering. With one arm around Bilbo and the other holding his hand to his chest, Richard examined Bilbo carefully, searching. A flirtatious grin spread across his face.

"Come here, I want to show you something."

Richard led Bilbo out of the main dining room, down a hall, and into a dimly lit room that, quite frankly, smelled terrible. People were naked, up against the wall or draped over furniture, all sampling each other's bodies and invading orifices. Men were with men, women were with women, and any couples that mixed genders had several eager participants. Bilbo had never seen other people make love in these ways, much less close up. Fascinated, he stood and stared for what felt like minutes. He could feel Richard pressed behind him, his arms circling Bilbo's waist while he watched over his shoulder.

"Do you see now why this club is particularly special, Bilbo?" Richard murmured into Bilbo's ear. "No one is giving away anyone's secrets because they all have naughty, naughty secrets of their own."  
"H-How do you find out about this? Have you been places like this with lovers before?"  
"Some," Richard said.  
"Some? You've had lots of relationships?"  
"A few, but not with those people. Those were just sex."  
"Just s-"  
Bilbo didn't get to finish his thought--he had been pushed against the wall with a mouthful of Richard. 

Before Bilbo could respond to the tongue against his, Richard moved his mouth to Bilbo's neck, right below his ear. "I'll have to admit I was surprised to find out Thorin inherited my proclivity for men. Tell me, what's he been doing to you, you pretty little thing? What secrets do the two of you have? Has he had your arse? Or maybe you've had his? I've been known to switch."

Richard rubbed his hand over Bilbo's crotch, but Bilbo pushed him back. 

Breathlessly, Bilbo said, "Nothing. He's been doing nothing like that to me, nor me to him."  
"I must not have put _that_ much of myself in his personality, then," Richard grinned, dipping in for another kiss.

Richard's hand snaked below Bilbo's belt again. Bilbo broke the kiss, halting Richard's wrist. 

"Stop it. I'm not used to this," he protested.  
"First time in public? Oh Bilbo, there's nothing quite like it. If we're lucky, we might even make some friends."  
"Friends? What, no--I'm not used to this. Any of this."  
"But you _are_ gay aren't you? I was sure of it!" Richard asked.  
"I am," Bilbo said, the admission somehow easier when surrounded by people of similar orientation.

Motionless, Richard regarded him for a moment, trying to figure out his misstep. It gave Bilbo a chance to move away.

"I'm not comfortable being back here," Bilbo said, retreating. 

Richard chased Bilbo out into the hall. 

"Help me, here. I don't understand the problem," Richard said. "You like me, I like you, and there's a cozy little place back there where we can like each other a whole lot more. What's the hold up?"  
"I've not done _anything like that_ before, okay?" Bilbo said meaningfully, if not a bit exasperatedly.  
"No," Richard gasped in disbelief. "At your age? Are you serious?"  
"I've got to go," BIlbo snarled, pushing past him.  
"Wait, Bilbo! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you," Richard said.  
"This was a mistake. Coming here was a mistake: kissing you, thinking you'd be like Thorin. You don't care about me--anyone at all could be back there with you."  
"Please, Bilbo. I'm very attracted to you and I like you so much. When you kissed me, I thought you might want to...you know? I wanted to give you the full experience."  
"The full experience? Is that what you tell your private room sex friends, too?" Bilbo said, stalking across the club floor toward the main entrance.

Richard smiled, embarrassed, giving a small wave to someone watching him chase Bilbo. Reaching the main hall, he tugged on Bilbo's elbow, urging him to stop. 

"It's not like that with you! I'm sorry. It was all my mistake--I, I thought you were attracted to me. Please, don't be angry."  
Bilbo thought Richard looked so wounded that he might begin to cry.  
"Don't think that," BIlbo said. "Of course I am attracted to you--how could I not be?--but I'm not the kind of person who has intimate relations in a place like that."  
"I should have known you were different," Richard said tenderly. "Too special for something so tawdry."  
Once more, Richard had Thorin's eyes. Bilbo nearly forgot himself again. He continued, "Besides, there _is_ something going on with Thorin. I feel like a heel letting you kiss me without telling you. I shouldn't have kissed you at all."  
"But you said he hadn't had you?" Richard asked, puzzled.  
Bilbo sighed, "Look, Richard, I think it is time for me to go. Tonight is clearly not going to end the way you planned. Thank you for dinner and the dance."  
"My own creation plagues me," Richard muttered under his breath. To Bilbo directly, he said, "Please, at least let me send you home in the hotel car. A newly unemployed man doesn't need to pay to get from New York to New Jersey."  
"That would be very generous of you," Bilbo replied.  
Shaking his head, Richard said, "It isn't generous. It is what is right."

Richard leaned in to kiss Bilbo softly on the cheek, walked him out to the sidewalk, and spoke to the driver. He held the car door for Bilbo. Before he shut it, he said, "I apologize again, truly. I hope...I hope we can move past this. Will I see you tomorrow?"  
"I don't know, maybe?" Bilbo replied.  
"I hope so," Richard said, closing the door and watching the car drive away.

*****

Bilbo had a forty minute car ride to replay the night and try to figure out where he went wrong. Richard reminded him so much of Thorin sometimes, it was difficult not to get caught up in him. He was also charming and a great companion, all the way up until he tried to push Bilbo to do filthy things. After that, he had treated Bilbo like he owned him. It had been a contrast from Thorin, who had been considerate and patient with Bilbo, waiting for Bilbo to say the word. Richard just _took_ , as though he had lost his self-control. Bilbo knew he should be completely disgusted, but something inside him tingled with the memory. Bilbo wondered what it would be like if Thorin behaved that way.

 _Thorin._

Thorin had spotted Bilbo--his loneliness, his restlessness, his sadness--from the other side of a movie screen and reached across the boundary of their worlds to save him from himself. Bilbo should have been treating him like the sweetest blessing! What was he doing instead? Going to New York with another man and having a decadently expensive dinner in a house of debauchery one could only access with a bawdy password, that's what. If he had come home to Thorin like he should have, he wouldn't have this churning gut of dread and confusion. 

Bilbo sighed heavily. He knew there was nothing for it: He was going to have to tell Thorin where he had been tonight, who he had been with, and accept the consequences. He was not a particularly religious man, but he silently said a prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your sweet support <3


	8. Owning Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo makes his confession

Bilbo had the driver drop him in his neighborhood but not on his street. He wanted to trust Richard, but he didn't know if he could trust the driver or the studio either one. The secrecy of his address protected Thorin for the time being.

Bilbo found Thorin reclining on his couch clad in only his trousers. His arms were stretched behind his head and one of his bare feet tapped along to the radio.

"Bilbo! You're home!" Thorin said, grinning and sitting up. "You're all flushed! Did you run all the way home from work?"  
"No, I-I-I was fired," Bilbo answered.  
"He fired you even after you showed up in a rush? After letting you work half the night?"  
"He fired me on the phone."  
Thorin's brow furrowed. "Then...where have you been for hours?"  
"Richard found me, in the diner where I used the phone. He apologized for this afternoon, and for the role he might have played in me becoming unemployed."  
"Uh-huh," Thorin said, examining Bilbo's expressions warily.  
Bilbo swallowed hard. "He offered to buy me dinner to help assuage any hard feelings, but he couldn't be seen in public with you for obvious reasons, so-"  
"-So he took you out, the two of you alone," Thorin finished flatly.  
"Yes," Bilbo replied meekly.  
"I might not know much about how things work here but I know enough about people to know that is the beginning and not the end of the story," Thorin said.  
"There-there is certainly more to this world than I realized, and just across the river, it seems," Bilbo chuckled nervously.  
Thorin stood, not joining him in his laughter. "How so?"  
"He took me to a club, I guess you could say, with all kinds of homosexual couples dancing and kissing, and no one so much as blinked an eye. There was a room there." Bilbo fidgeted.  
Thorin's eyes narrowed. "What sort of room?"  
"It was a private room, of sorts. Large. It was full of people having sex with each other, many of them in ways I had never imagined. Richard brought me back there to see it. More than see it, really. He brought me back there to experience it with him."  
"I see," Thorin muttered.  
Bilbo shook his head frantically. "I didn't let him, Thorin."  
"Did you want to?" Thorin asked quietly, taking steps towards Bilbo.  
Bilbo shrugged. "A little...when he reminded me of you."

Thorin slowly reached out, brushing Bilbo's mouth with a delicate touch.

"Did he kiss these lips?" he whispered.  
Bilbo looked down. "Yes."  
Thorin dropped his hand. "I hate that."  
"I know," Bilbo said, barely above a murmur.  
Thorin ducked to catch Bilbo's eye. "Was his kiss better than mine?"  
Bilbo replied, "It was...different. It confused me."  
"In what way?"

Once Bilbo's gaze met Thorin's, he couldn't seem to look away.

He explained, "He looked and sounded like you, especially when he got a certain look in his eyes. The kiss, the attraction--I don't know if it was because he was him or because he was once you."  
Thorin countered harshly, "So what are you doing here?"  
"I wanted to come home!" Bilbo answered, sounding more like a plea than a reply. "I wanted to come home to you!"  
Thorin grumbled, "I did not send you out into the world this afternoon to be kissed by someone else, even if it was sort of me."  
"I didn't plan it, Thorin, please believe me!" Bilbo cried, grasping Thorin's hands.  
"I do believe you," Thorin said. "If anyone could fake such nervousness over being late to work, a Richard Armitage would seem like a child play-acting in comparison."  
Bilbo exhaled in relief. "Thank you for believing me."  
"But," Thorin said seriously, "I'm feeling hurt and betrayed."  
"I understand."

Thorin's voice took on a more solemn, authoritative tone.

He said, "I need to ask you something, and I cannot wait any longer. My family, my friends, my very life are on the line. If I've chosen to chase a phantom, I must know now. How do you feel about me, Bilbo? Think hard and answer with as much honesty as you can muster, even if it is going to hurt me. No, _especially_ if it is going to hurt me. Tell me, do you share my feelings?"  
Bilbo answered, "I do, Thorin, but I'm frightened. You are from another, more beautiful world and I'm far from the loveliest thing to be found in my world. You're fictional but I think you are one of the most wonderful people I've ever met. What if I cannot measure up?"

Thorin took his hand and placed it on Bilbo's heart, coincidentally similar to what Richard had done earlier.

"Close your eyes, Bilbo," Thorin said. "I don't want to talk anymore about real or illusion, about my world or your world. Can you feel it here? If you shut off your mind and its worries, if you let yourself simply sense, can you feel the pull toward me that I felt from the other side of the screen for you?"  
Bilbo was quiet for a moment. "I feel it, Thorin, honestly and truly."

Thorin gently tipped up Bilbo's chin. Bilbo's eyes fluttered open and he met Thorin's gaze.

Thorin softly said, "Then from now on, it will be _our_ world. You and me, wherever we land."

Thorin cupped Bilbo's face and moved in for a kiss. Bilbo stopped him with fingers against his chin, stuttering, "Hup-up...wait."  
Thorin did not release him but he let his head fall back in frustration. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and sighed, "What now, my treasure?"  
"Please, just...allow me a moment? As long as we are talking candidly, there is something I want you tell you, that I've been trying to tell you. I've been attempting to keep hold of myself and bite back my natural impulses since practically the moment you grabbed my hand to pull me through the Cavalcade and out into the alley. Whenever we've kissed, I've been stopping you because I've been worried about losing control of my body and my emotions. The things I feel are overwhelming, so beyond anything I understand, I've been afraid to let go. I've been wanting to tell you because you deserve to know, but I was too nervous to even do that."  
Thorin smiled sweetly. "I'm glad you told me."  
Bilbo centered himself and spoke again, "But I'm ready now, Thorin. I'm ready to give into this thing I've been feeling. I want to kiss you tonight and not stop you when it feels like too much. If I am to lose control, I want to lose control with you."

Without a moment's hesitation, Thorin pulled Bilbo into a hungry kiss, tongue parting his lips nearly instantly. Bilbo held to him tightly, slipping his tongue over Thorin's, opening wider to him, letting himself be consumed. They kissed each other for what felt to Bilbo like ages. His cock swelled and electricity spread throughout his limbs, dancing just under the surface of his skin most anxiously. His senses were heightened, from the scratch of Thorin's beard rubbing against his face to the deep rumble of the other man's moans resonating through his own chest. Thorin's hands moved down Bilbo's body, grasping and caressing him through his clothes. Bilbo felt a want inside more urgent than any he had felt before. 

Thorin's lips broke free, prompting a whimper from Bilbo. The whimper grew into breathy sighs as Thorin kissed and nibbled down Bilbo's neck. A sudden sensation of cool air nudged Bilbo into realizing Thorin had been unbuttoning his shirt as they kissed. He pulled Bilbo close once again and the warmth of Thorin's chest against his made him nearly dizzy. 

"Would it be too forward to suggest we do this in the bedroom?" Bilbo asked, panting. "I fear in a few moments, my legs will lack the power to stand."  
Thorin grinned. "Not too forward at all."

He swooped Bilbo up in his arms and carried him into the bedroom. Bilbo couldn't help thinking that it was just like in the movies. Once there, Thorin returned Bilbo's feet to the floor and flipped on the lamp. 

Bilbo said, "You always hear folks say, 'oh, it made my knees weak,' but you really do, Thorin. Kissing you makes my legs feel like jelly."

Thorin kissed him again, needful and passionate. In a flash of boldness, Bilbo unbuttoned Thorin's trousers. Thorin's kiss surged deeper with a groan as he did the same for Bilbo. Bilbo rubbed Thorin's cock through the fabric, disbelieving this was something he was actually doing for real. Thorin unzipped Bilbo, causing his trousers to fall to his knees. Thorin kneaded Bilbo's bum through the fabric of his underwear, sending entire armies of tingles buzzing to the surface from head to toe. Bilbo's fingers unzipped Thorin's trousers and found Thorin's cock, hard and bare. Bilbo gasped. Of course! He had forgotten to give Thorin underwear! 

Bilbo broke their kiss to peek down at Thorin's prick while he explored it with gentle touches. It was about the same size as his, silky to the touch and oh-so-very warm. He closed his fingers around it as he would his own, late in the privacy of night, and Thorin rewarded him with a purr of delight. 

Hooking his fingers into Bilbo's own unders, Thorin pulled them down, all the way down until he was kneeling. He encouraged Bilbo to sit. One at a time, he disentangled Bilbo's trousers from his boots, removing the rest of Bilbo's clothes in the process. Sitting on the floor, he tugged his own trousers the rest of the way off, then moved up to his knees in front of Bilbo. Locking his eyes with Bilbo's, he smoothed his hands up Bilbo's thighs. 

Thorin's voice was raspy with lust when he spoke again. "Show me where he touched you, where he held you, and those will be the places I touch you first. I wish to erase all touches but my own."  
"Tell me why," Bilbo whispered.  
"You're mine, that's why. You're mine and I'm yours and we've spanned two worlds to have this chance. If there are to be hands on you, from now on they will be mine."  
Bilbo's voice trembled when he spoke, so unable was he to contain his desire. "You've already touched me, held me, and kissed me in all those places..." he trailed off, biting his lip.  
"But? I can tell you want to say more. It is okay, Bilbo," Thorin said, rising to join Bilbo on the bed. "Tell me."  
"The--the things I saw in that club...the things those people were doing to each other! I watched them, touching, moving, moaning--it stirred me, Thorin. I won't lie to you. I was fascinated. I was, I was _hard_."  
Bilbo was flushing crimson in the lamp light.  
"Don't be embarrassed," Thorin said.  
"Merely remembering it is making me feel crazy."  
"Watching you remember it is making me feel a little wild, myself," Thorin flirted, ghosting a touch down Bilbo's arm.

With Thorin's touch, something in Bilbo gave way. He pushed Thorin back onto the bed, using his lips and tongue to map out the skin from Thorin's neck to his navel. Thorin squirmed and moaned, whispering encouragements to embolden Bilbo further. Bilbo reached Thorin's cock, now wet at the tip with arousal. Bilbo darted out his tongue for an experimental lick, forcing a sharp exhale from Thorin in both thrill and surprise. Bilbo licked the length in long stripes. Recalling one of the acts he saw performed by numerous lovers in the private club room, he opened his mouth and took Thorin in. He promptly gagged himself. Sputtering, he pulled back. 

"Are you okay?" Thorin asked.  
"Yes, I think...I think perhaps I was a little overzealous."  
Thorin's head dropped back against the pillow. "I loved it up until you choked."

Bilbo tried it again, shallower this time, and developed a workable rhythm. Thorin whined--really, the _noises_ he was making were scintillating--and clutched at the bedding. Something new stirred inside Bilbo, deep down. It was more than arousal, which Bilbo already felt was going to make him burst as it was. 

Grasping Thorin at the base of his cock, Bilbo stroked as he moved his mouth, his hand keeping himself from gagging even with Thorin's more wild thrusts. Bilbo grew more confident, more brazen. He didn't feel out of control at all--he felt gloriously in control. This beautiful creature was about to fall apart from the pleasure Bilbo was giving and he loved being the one to do it to him. _That_ was the feeling that swirled within him: for the first time in his life, Bilbo felt powerful. 

Thorin was sweating and keening, back bowing off the bed, the blankets wound around his fists on both sides as Bilbo practiced his new skill. He kept trying to speak, but he could only spit out pieces of sentences. Bilbo pulled his mouth off Thorin but continued to stroke. 

"What-" Thorin gasped.  
Surprising himself, Bilbo purred with a voice shades lower than his own, "I want to watch you come."

Thorin's breath hitched, his muscles tensed, and he could only manage grunts and whimpers as his orgasm spurted across his stomach and Bilbo's hand. His chest heaved with hard-won breaths while he rode out the final waves of pleasure. Bilbo watched him intently, hardly bothering to blink. 

When Thorin could catch enough air to talk, he said, "I was already pretty close, but when I heard something so filthy escape your lips, there was nothing I could do to stop it even if I wanted to. I think, ah, I think I like it when you talk naughty."  
Bilbo smiled. "I think I might like to talk naughty. It felt good, saying that to you."  
Thorin's head lolled back and forth on the pillow. "What you did was amazing. I've never felt anything like that before! I have to do it to you."  
Bilbo felt a fluttery flex from his groin up through his heart at the mere thought. "God, will you?"  
Thorin grinned. "You really are willing to lose control with me tonight, aren't you? I'm going to take the utmost delight in making that happen."


	9. Giving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo lets it all go.

Thorin hastily cleaned up his stomach and chest. He turned back to see Bilbo spread out on the bed and hard with anticipation. Thorin's breath skipped.

"You're just--gracious, Bilbo! I loved you before you removed a stitch of clothing, but now, well...I hope you don't change your mind about this any time soon."  
Bilbo smiled, replying, "I can't imagine I ever will."

Thorin climbed onto the bed and smoothed his hands across Bilbo's torso, down his hip, and along his thigh. Bilbo closed his eyes and exhaled, arching up to Thorin's touch. 

Reverently, Thorin said, "I've seen the greatest mountains of dwarven rule and the sculpted valleys of the elves, I've seen rivers of gold and the finest gems ever wrought, but I have never seen anything as beautiful as you are to me at this very moment."

Bilbo had never received such praise and adoration before. His gaze met Thorin's, and what he saw in Thorin's eyes nearly brought tears to his own. 

"Show me," Bilbo whispered. "Make me feel it."

Thorin's lips explored Bilbo from knee to hip, pausing along the inner thigh when he discovered spots that made his lover twitch. He nosed along Bilbo's testicles and shaft, relishing the shivers and sweet gasps such touches elicited. He wanted badly to have his taste, but the lure of yet un-kissed skin was too much to resist. 

A moan Bilbo scarcely believed could have come from his own throat escaped him. With Thorin's tour of Bilbo's body leading up to the sensitive skin where his collar met his shoulder, he had dropped his weight on him. The hot sensation of so much skin on skin had joined with Bilbo's pure want and Bilbo bucked up into him, his cock sliding along Thorin's flesh. Repeating his motion, he clutched at Thorin and continued to cry out heretofore foreign noises of pleasure. 

"Bilbo," Thorin growled low. "Gods, Bilbo, _yes_."

Bilbo had been exceptionally responsive to every touch, breath, and kiss. Initially having felt selfish for experiencing his satisfaction first, Thorin was now grateful. This would have been far, far too much to endure had it been the other way around. He kissed down Bilbo's chest and stomach, making sure to drag his own body along Bilbo's cock with every shift in distance.

Bilbo breathed out Thorin's name.  
"What do you want from me, my treasure?" Thorin asked.  
"Mouth," Bilbo panted. "Put your mouth around me, take it out of me like I took it out of you."  
"With great pleasure."

The perfect, wet heat of Thorin's mouth sent stunned shockwaves up Bilbo's body. He had touched himself many times, but it had not ever felt like this. 

Thorin gagged, having taken Bilbo too deeply just as Bilbo had done with him. Remembering Bilbo's hand, he added his. He glanced up in time to see Bilbo swallow a shout and tangle his hands in his own hair. 

"Yes! That!" Bilbo managed to choke out. 

Thorin sealed his lips against the top of his grip, following it with every stroke. He added swishes of his tongue and suction here and there as he moved. Bilbo groaned and grunted loudly, outright shouting on some of Thorin's passes. When he had to physically restrain Bilbo's hips to the bed, Thorin considered it a proud accomplishment. 

Bilbo bucked, bowed, and rose off the bed, trying simultaneously to both chase and escape the sensations Thorin was giving him. From the moment Thorin's lips had gone to work on Bilbo's body, he had felt his heady impression of being in control slipping. It faded into a feeling more akin to falling as Thorin's mouth had moved across his flesh. Now, with Thorin wringing such passion from him, all control was gone, but it was nothing like Bilbo had feared. Oddly, he felt empowered being made so helpless by Thorin's hand and mouth. He knew Thorin wanted it--wanted _him_ \--and for the first time, the thought of letting himself go for someone else seemed intoxicating.

Bilbo grew tense below Thorin and his sounds of passion were growing more fervent. Thorin felt Bilbo grow harder in his grip and against his tongue and had to fight the urge to smile. 

"Th-Thorin," Bilbo grunted, frantically tapping against his shoulder. "It's gonna, I'm gonna-"

To Bilbo's surprise, Thorin did not pull off--he didn't so much as slow down. The falling sensation increased, bottoming out as Bilbo came pulsing inside Thorin's mouth. Undeterred, Thorin swallowed it all and then some, with Bilbo having to push Thorin off when it became much too much. His body continued twitching and the blood roared inside his veins. Bilbo's head fell back against the pillow.

Thorin slunk up next to Bilbo and pressed against his side. Bilbo's skin was hot and his breaths were heaving. 

"That, you..." Bilbo panted, at a loss for adjectives.  
Thorin hummed in agreement. "I would happily do that to you every night for the rest of our lives."  
Still astonished, Bilbo said, "You, you swallowed it, me."  
Thorin shrugged. "Well, yes."  
"But, didn't it taste, um, bad?" Bilbo asked.  
Thorin grinned, nuzzling Bilbo's skin. "Perhaps it wasn't quite as pleasant as this afternoon's soup, but it wasn't terrible. I must confess a certain obscene thrill from consuming the physical embodiment of your pleasure."  
"I liked it," Bilbo confessed. "It seemed so filthy. Maybe I should do that to you next time."  
"So," Thorin said, suddenly shy. "You would like a next time as much as I would?"  
Bilbo rolled over to embrace Thorin. "Possibly more."

Thorin kissed him passionately; Bilbo tasted the faintness of himself on Thorin's tongue. Almost able to physically feel Thorin's relief, Bilbo grew guilt-ridden for ever making Thorin doubt himself, for enjoying Richard's kisses, for the feelings he had allowed Richard to invoke in his heart and his body. Thorin and Richard had swirled together too easily in Bilbo's mind, but only one of them made him feel this safe and cherished. Bilbo slightly pulled his mouth back to speak.

"There's something I need to tell you and I should've told you the night we met. I'm in love with you, Thorin," Bilbo breathed. Having finally said the words, the rest of his confession spilled forth in a rush. "God, I'm so in love with you and it is crazy, truly, because it has been less than a week, but I knew somehow--the moment I saw you on the screen, you took my breath away--and I honestly think I've been in love with you since the first time I saw the film. Knowing you, having you here with me for the past few days, seeing how sweet and gentle you can be when you aren't playing the noble, passionate hero trying to win back his homeland, it has only made me love you more. I've been too afraid--afraid it was going to end, that you would change your mind, afraid that real love is supposed to take longer to grow this deeply--but I can't keep this to myself anymore. I love you and whatever happens from this point forward, I needed you to know."

Thorin's lips twitched with emotion, somewhere between a smile and suppressing tears. "I noticed you never said it back, even though I've said it a dozen times or more. I was starting to think maybe you wouldn't, but it didn't change my feelings. I don't know how long such things are 'supposed' to take here, but I stepped off the screen because I thought it could be real for us. I had to find out, and I was more right than I could have guessed. There had to be a reason I noticed you, a reason I was able to step out of frame, something special between us binding us together. I love you."

They kissed until their kisses grew soft and drowsy. Thorin stretched back to shut off the lamp. He encouraged Bilbo to roll on his other side and settled in behind him, like the night before but this time blissfully naked and content in the comfort of reassurance of their mutual love. 

"Thorin?"  
"Hmm?"  
"If you knew, if you understood what was going to happen show after show, if you and yours were sentient the way you talk about, what kept you from saving yourselves?"  
"Saving ourselves how?" Thorin asked.  
"I don't know, maybe knowing where Azog was going to be and getting there first?"  
Bilbo felt Thorin shake his head. "We are bound to the script, to the meter, to the way things are. There's nothing we can do but what we've always done. Being aware of it doesn't change that, it only makes it worse."  
"And when the film goes off?" Bilbo asked.  
Thorin exhaled heavily. "When it goes well, we dream, which is almost the opposite of how it is for you, here. There, our dreams are where we have some modicum of control over what we do and say. We are bound to our characters' written experiences, but dreaming for us still means freedom."  
"You say when it goes well. What happens the other times?"  
Thorin's voice was tight. "Oblivion. We are and then we aren't. It is disconcerting, that sort of disappearing, very harsh and frightening."  
"What causes it?" Bilbo inquired.  
"I don't know. It might have something to do with the film reels, or perhaps another anomaly we would not know about on our end of things. None of us care for it, though, I can promise you that."  
Bilbo clutched Thorin's arms to his chest more tightly. "I can't imagine you do."

They lay still for several long moments. Thorin's steady breathing lulled Bilbo closer to sleep, though Bilbo could tell his lover was still awake and thinking. Questions of Bilbo's own fought their way through the fog descending on Bilbo's mind as he drifted toward unconsciousness. 

Drowsily, Bilbo asked, "What sort of ending would you wish to your film if you could do whatever you wanted?"  
Thorin did not hesitate with his answer. "I would marry you. I would marry you and love you forever."

Bilbo leaned back and stole one more kiss. He let slumber claim him at last, cradling Thorin's arms with his own, wearing a peaceful smile. 

Once Bilbo was fully asleep, Thorin quietly wept against his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, my little band of dedicated supporters. I appreciate you so much!


	10. Catch 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are made and consequences follow.

Thorin woke the next morning with a naked Bilbo pressed against him. They had moved in their sleep to face one another but stayed instinctively close. Bilbo sleeping looked sweetly precious, fully belying last night's face of hunger, lust, and need. Thorin smiled, risking a whisper-light caress along Bilbo's cheek, thinking how lucky he was to be allowed to see Bilbo in such ways. 

When he had left the film, Thorin had told Bilbo in their first moments he never intended to return and he had meant it--truly, he expected staying to be his choice all along--but Bilbo's curiosity about film life and the subsequent discussion last night drove home the inherent harshness of such a decision. It had not been the first time such dark thoughts had skittered across Thorin's mind, but with their love confessed, bodies shared, and the reality of moving forward, it was time to face them. Though Thorin couldn't bear leaving Bilbo behind, staying meant his family, his friends, his very world would be shut off, never to be seen by him again. Besides purely missing them, there was also the worry: if Thorin's absence meant they could not dream, they might be stuck in darkness forever. Thorin was not of this world but he knew if the people in charge of such things shut that movie off without him, they weren't going to show it again. He might be dooming his family to oblivion. What would be worse? Leaving them or leaving Bilbo? How could he live with himself in either case? He had fallen asleep crying for the awfulness of what he must do today, and he found himself stroking Bilbo's hair and shedding tears again.

Bilbo hummed under Thorin's gentle touches, grinning. His content grin faded once his eyes fluttered open and he saw Thorin crying. 

"What is it?" Bilbo asked with deep concern, placing his hand lovingly on Thorin's face.  
Thorin covered Bilbo's hand with his own. "I have made a decision, a very hard one, the sort of decision where heartbreak lay on either side."  
Bilbo rolled his lips in nervously, feeling the threat of tears. "This is it, isn't it? You-you can't stay, can you? After what you told me last night, I worried, but then you said you'd want to...well..."  
"No! Oh no, that's not it at all. I've decided I want to stay here with you, if you'll have me, though it means leaving the others behind. I have to hope they'll dream, that perhaps they will shut the film off and they may all dream in peace and stay free of the script forever. I have to believe it, because knowing I might doom them to oblivion is more than I can bear."  
"Me, too, Thorin. I grew to care for your friends and allies a great deal and I want them to be alright, I do. I would understand if you had to go, but I will admit all I want is for you to stay. I don't want to be alone anymore, not when I know what it feels like to love someone."  
Thorin embraced Bilbo tightly, squeezing tears from his eyes. "I want to start a new life with you. We can do it here, if you please, or I'll take you away somewhere you might be able to fulfill your dreams. I'll work day and night, anywhere that will take me, to keep us safe and happy."  
"I don't care where we go. You've given me love and courage, both the likes of which I've never known. _You're_ my dream, Thorin."  
"I love you," Thorin whispered fiercely.  
"I love you, too...and I have a secret," Bilbo confided. "I have a sum of money my parents left me. It is not enormous, but it is enough for a new start somewhere. That is the reason my mother left it, but I've not been brave enough to use it, not until now. We could go right this moment if you want. I can always let my cousin Lobelia keep up this place for me. She'd be happy to upgrade her space, I'm sure."  
Thorin's expression grew grave. "I have to at least tell them all goodbye, Bilbo."  
"It is risky," Bilbo said, biting his lip. "What if the studio people force you back up?"  
"How? I'm the only one that can do it."  
Bilbo's frown deepened. "What if they hurt you? Or take you away from me?"  
Thorin cradled Bilbo's face. "I have to say goodbye, not only for me but for them. I have to prepare them, to warn them, and to seek their forgiveness should the worst be in store for them. I won't be able to live with myself if I can't explain myself to them and see them all one last time."

Thorin's voice broke and more tears followed. Bilbo held and comforted him. If Thorin was willing to endure this pain to be with him, Bilbo had no choice but to support him, regardless of his fears.

Bilbo spoke softly. "I don't have anyone left in my life like that, no one I would miss, but if my parents were still alive, nothing would stop me from wanting to get to them. Even now, I'd give most anything to tell them I loved them one last time. We will go see your family and hope for the best. I hope they are still there to see."  
Thorin swallowed, wiping his eyes. "Somehow, I can feel it. I know they are still there, but who knows for how long?"  
"In that case, let's get dressed and go without delay. I'll confess I'd feel better if you were dressed in your leathers, though."  
"What about drawing attention?" Thorin asked.  
"You're going back to the theater you escaped by leaping out of a movie," Bilbo reminded him. "I'd say you're already halfway there with drawing attention, anyway. I'd rather you be safe."

While they dressed, Bilbo shoved a knife of his father's in his pocket for extra defense. He also tucked away a few treasured trinkets for luck and loaded his wallet in case he needed to bribe someone. He wanted to leave as little to chance as possible.

*****

With a closed box office and one unattended, unlocked door, Bilbo managed to get into the theater with surprising ease. He stole across the lobby and ducked into the screening room for "The Purple Rose Of Erebor." He ran down the aisle toward the front fire exit.

"Oi, who's that fellow?" Bofur said. 

The rest of the group snapped to attention, having grown bored and listless in the passing hours with nothing to do but sit in The Green Dragon, waiting for word. 

"Oh, hello! Sir, could you tell us any news?" Ori said, brightening for the first time in a day.  
Bilbo waved and shouted, "Hello! Just a moment, please!" 

Opening the exit door, he ushered in Thorin. Excitement erupted up on the screen.

"It's him!" Dwalin shouted excitedly.  
Relieved, Kíli called, "Thorin! You're back!"

A chorus of chatter, ranging from happy cries to angrily demanding questions followed. Thorin noticed several extra characters on the screen.

"Um, right. Hello, everybody," Thorin said, realizing this was going to be more difficult than he had thought. "I wanted you to meet Bilbo Baggins, my beloved. Bilbo, this is...well, my, looks like almost everyone. I don't remember you all being in the Green Dragon before."  
Thranduil shot back, "What else were we supposed to do? Sit in our respective scenes playing pinochle and waiting for you to end your jolly jaunt around the world out there?"  
"I told you he'd be back," Fili said smugly.  
Gandalf nodded. "Yes, now, let's you get up here so we can get on with it."  
"Yeah, get back in the story!" Nori insisted.  
"Well, that's the thing..." Thorin started.  
Kíli grinned, pointing at Bilbo. "Is the cutie coming too?"  
"That ought to make things interesting, it ought," Bofur said. "The king having a love interest."  
"It would change the story," Elrond noted.  
"What would that do? What would it mean?" Dori asked.  
Galadriel said, "No one knows. It has never been done!"

A second round of rousing discussion broke out amongst them as they wondered aloud what would happen if Thorin returned and added Bilbo Baggins to the story.

"Excuse me, Fíli? Kíli? Balin? Someone?" Thorin called. He tried getting their attention louder, but it didn't work.  
" _EVERYBODY SHUT IT!_ " Bilbo hollered with a force Thorin hadn't seen from him before. 

All activity ceased on the screen and several pairs of eyes blinked out into the theater, all looking at Bilbo.

"Ah, thank you. Thorin would very much like your attention, if you please," Bilbo said politely, as though he hadn't just single-handedly silenced a group of wizards, orcs, goblins, elves, and rowdy men.  
"Thank you, Bilbo," Thorin said, kissing his hand. "To answer your question, my dear Kíli, Bilbo will not be joining you...and neither will I."

A third cacophony broke out, this one of shock and outrage. As the group argued on the screen, the door to the screening room opened and Richard Armitage walked in.

"Bilbo?"  
Bilbo gasped. "Richard? What are you doing here?"  
"I had just sat down outside the door to think and I heard you shout. I thought it surely couldn't be you, but here you are," Richard smiled, glancing over Bilbo from head to foot and stepping forward to warmly take his hands. "What are you two doing here? Never mind, I'm simply so glad to see you. I wanted to apologize about last night, it's just--"  
Thorin stepped up to Richard, putting himself in between the other and Bilbo. "I ought to show you some Ereborian justice for the stunt you pulled last night," he said menacingly. "As it is, can you please just leave us alone?"  
Richard's expression was pained. "No, I'm sorry but I can't. I'm jealous as all bloody hell."  
"Jealous?" Bilbo asked, stunned.  
Richard shouldered himself in front of Thorin again and spoke passionately to Bilbo. "I can't get you out of my mind. I'm embarrassed to admit it, Bilbo, but remember when you said I had a magical glow? It is you, you are the one who has it. You."  
Thorin growled, "Go back to Hollywood! Leave us be!"  
"Not without my screenwriter," Richard said, never taking his gaze from Bilbo.  
"Richard..." Bilbo said guardedly.  
Richard continued, "Would you rather be my vocal coach, then? Or maybe even my co-star?"  
"What are you talking about?" Thorin demanded. "What's he talking about, Bilbo?"  
Richard ignored him, continuing to beseech Bilbo. "Please, even though we just met, I know this is the real thing. I've been around, which I know bothers you, but that's how I know it is real. I've never had this feeling before."  
"You can't love him the way he deserves," Thorin said.  
Richard rolled his eyes, saying to Thorin, "Why don't you turn around, re-enter the film, and leave us to our real lives?"  
"I'm not planning on going back," Thorin stated firmly.  
Bard crossed his arms, "There, he's said it again! He's going to leave us here to be switched off without him!"  
"Thorin, will you just get up here?" Óin said.  
Ori had started weeping. "What are we going to do?" he wailed.  
"You've gone and made him cry, you have," Nori said.  
"See, Thorin? There you go, you're ruining everything," Richard said.  
Thorin poked him. "You are, you're the one ruining everything."  
Richard desperately grasped Bilbo by the biceps. "You know, I haven't been able to think about anything else since we've met. Please, I have to have some time to show you what real life can be like when two people really care for each other. I've got the money and I know the right people. We could set up so no one would suspect us, especially if you come work for the studio. You could live that life your mother wanted for you, Bilbo, and you would be free."  
Thorin looked stricken. "You told him about your mother?"  
"He told me a lot of his hopes and dreams," Richard said smugly.  
Bilbo ignored both of them, stepping back. "Last week I was unloved and this week two people love me...and it is the same two people," he said, seemingly to himself.

Shouted advice came from the direction of the screen. 

"Go with the real man. We're limited," Saruman said.  
Fíli said, "Go with Thorin, he'll be good to you."  
The barman said, "Go with somebody, whomever you are, because I'm getting bored."  
"Would you all pipe down?" barked Richard. "I'm trying to tell Bilbo I'm in love with him."  
"Love?" Bilbo squeaked.  
Thorin tried to get his attention back. "Bilbo, I'm honest, dependable, courageous, romantic, a great kisser-"  
"-And I'm _real_ ," Richard snapped.  
"Hold it!" Bilbo shouted. "Both of you! Just because I'm stunned by Richard's confession doesn't mean anything has changed. I've known what I wanted from the beginning."  
"You have?" several voices came from the screen.

Bilbo affectionately took Richard's hand, pressing his lips to it softly. Thorin felt as though he had been booted in the gut.

"Richard, I don't know what I said or did to make a fellow like you love me so much so quickly. It is an honor, truly it is, and I'll never forget that night on the town, but I don't love you. I'm in love with Thorin. With him and me, there _is_ no real versus illusion, no Middle Earth versus our world. We've decided we will simply be us, together, from now on, whatever that might mean. I'm sorry I hurt you, Richard, truly."  
"Oh Bilbo," Thorin said. 

Thorin pulled him close and most everyone on the screen cheered wildly.

"You're going to learn your first hard real world lesson, my friend," Richard said to Thorin, tone already growing cold. "Even as we stand here, the studio is preparing to shut off the picture. Hell, they might even burn the print. Everyone you know will be gone forever."  
"You're a fiend!" Galadriel shouted.  
Richard held his hands up. "Look, lady, I didn't plan this. I know about it, but I didn't plan it. I'm merely stating what is going to happen if Thorin doesn't jump back in the film. They've already pulled it from other cities. They won't take any more chances...but that isn't all."  
"What else do you know, Richard?" Bilbo entreated.  
Richard fixed Bilbo with a serious look. "Thorin doesn't have papers or anything identifying him as a person. He won't be able to do anything but get arrested, anywhere in the country. Also, if he doesn't go back in, Mr. Hirsch has threatened to leak the story about you being lovers to the national press. You two will never know a moment's peace. You'll be followed, harassed, possibly even killed. At the very least, everyone will know who you are. You'll never get a job again, that's for sure, not as an infamously famous queer in the eyes of the nation. This debacle has set back Mr. Hirsch and the studio a lot of money and if they can't get it to go away quietly, with Thorin returning to the film, they will do anything and everything to create a distraction to draw attention from themselves."

Bilbo's lip quivered. He and Richard could have had a chance with Richard's connections, or he and Thorin could have had a chance with some anonymity, but Richard was right--two gay men under public scrutiny would never stand a chance, not without a lot more money than they had to work with. 

Thorin looked to Bilbo to see if Richard was lying about the way things worked, but the look that passed over his face told him everything he needed to know. If he stayed and that print burned, there would be no dreaming. There would be no anything, ever again, for anyone he loved in that world. He might have still considered it to be with Bilbo, but that was about to be destroyed, too. No jobs meant no food and no shelter. He was willing to leave his family to build a life with Bilbo, but if staying with Bilbo would ruin everyone's lives, there was no other choice to be had. 

"Bilbo," he said, pulling him close. "I'm going to have to go back."  
"No!" Bilbo sobbed. "No, you can't! I just found you!"  
"Look, you'll still kind of have me. Richard loves you, he said so, and he is sort of me after all."  
"No, that is not true and both of you know it full well," Bilbo argued.  
"I can't stay, not with what they are planning," Thorin said, stroking Bilbo's hair as his love wept in his arms. "If I stay, I kill us all in one way or another. You and I will starve to death if someone doesn't harm us first."  
"I knew we shouldn't have come today!" lamented Bilbo.  
"It wouldn't have changed anything, my treasure. The only difference is now we know what Mr. Hirsch and the studio planned to do in my absence. Better we know now so we can make a wise decision. Come now," Thorin said, trying with everything in him to be strong. "You'll be okay. Richard will take you to Hollywood with him and help make all your dreams come true, won't you, Richard?"  
"Of course I will," Richard replied calmly. "Bilbo, you know this is what needs to be done. Thorin belongs in Middle Earth and you belong here in the real world."  
"I belong wherever he is!" Bilbo cried. He pulled his forehead back and his eyes grew wide in epiphany. "Oh my god, _that's it_! Thorin, I'll go with you! I'll go to Middle Earth!"  
"What? No! You live here!" Thorin countered.  
"Pffft," Bilbo scoffed. "What sort of life is here for me without the man I love? There's no one I'd miss as much as I'd miss you."  
Thorin leaned back, holding Bilbo by the shoulders. Thin hope crept through him even as he tried to talk Bilbo out of it. "It is dangerous! You know I don't even make it out of the film alive and I'm the King Under The Mountain."

A goblin scoffed and Kíli stomped its foot, making it yelp. 

Growing excited, Bilbo said, "Don't you see? I'm not bound to the script! I can help you! Maybe I can even save you!"

The thought of Bilbo facing off with Azog made Thorin feel ill. He had to squash his own hopes to protect Bilbo. 

"As soon as you jump in, they'll turn you off, and who knows what will happen?" Thorin said. "Maybe they'll burn the print anyway. You simply _can't_ do this."  
He glanced over at Richard, hoping for some help in convincing Bilbo to stay. "Richard, tell him! Tell him he has to stay with you for his own good."

Richard chewed the inside of his cheek, looking thoughtful. Thorin's brow furrowed. He did not understand this hesitation. 

"He's got his mind made up, Thorin," Richard said, shrugging. "He wouldn't be happy in Hollywood with me, not if he clearly has chosen you."

Thorin was sure his jaw was on the floor from the shock. How could Richard not want what was best for Bilbo? Just moments ago he was swearing his love to him. His eyes narrowed as he studied his originator and understanding dawned. Oh, that _cad_. 

Bilbo jolted Thorin out of his darkening thoughts. He said, "Thorin, you weren't supposed to be able to leave the screen, but you did. Not only that, but your men have been off-script for the last however many days. Who is to say if I join you that this is the end? Maybe they'll turn it off forever and we'll simply go black together--or maybe we'll dream, this time with more freedom because we'll have our new experiences from which to draw. Not only that, but think about it, Thorin! Even if you have to play through the movie again--what if I could save you? What if maybe, somehow, when the Cavalcade switches us off I could save you, Fíli, and Kíli? What if you became the rightful King of Erebor? Wouldn't that be something? Wouldn't a future for us together be worth the risk?"

Bilbo held out a hand to Thorin. Thorin looked down at it, and back up into Bilbo's eyes. His renewed tears finally spilled over as he took Bilbo's hand.

"May I have one more kiss, in case this is the end?" asked Thorin shakily. 

Bilbo tugged Thorin close and their lips came together, not caring a damn about their audience. If this might be the last kiss, it was going to be as passionate as any they had shared the night before. At first, whistles and claps came from the screen, but they quickly died down in embarrassment and curious wonder as Thorin and Bilbo devoured each other. Richard shuffled nervously, unprepared for the nasty twist it gave him inside to see Bilbo kissed like this. After many, many moments, the deep kiss turned into several softer ones, ending in a tight embrace. 

"I love you," Thorin whispered into Bilbo's ear.  
"I love you, too," came Bilbo's reply. 

Leading Bilbo by the hand, Thorin stepped into the screen. Dwalin shoved Saruman and Legolas out of frame so Bilbo and Thorin would fit. 

Bilbo looked around and out into the theater, eyes glittering with fascination. "My whole life, I've wondered what it would be like on this side of the screen," he breathed.  
With formal affection, Thorin said, "Welcome to Middle Earth, Bilbo Baggins." 

"So, that's it then," Richard said, unexpectedly melancholy. "I hope you understand what you are doing. As soon as they know you're up there, they will shut the film off."

A rumble went through the group in The Green Dragon. 

Thorin said to Richard, "We'll be ready. If you could, for the sake of once having been me, would you give us a few minutes to prepare?"  
"I will," Richard promised.  
Bilbo looked out into the theater. "Goodbye, Richard. I'm glad to have met you."  
Richard smiled up at Bilbo's face, now in black and white and larger than life. "I'm better for having met you, too."

Despite the Oscar-worthy acting he had done in the past day, Richard belatedly realized he well and truly meant it.

Richard could hear the commotion behind him as he walked up the aisle. Taking one last glance behind, he saw Fíli hugging Bilbo in welcome, lifting his feet from the ground. He shook his head affectionately and chuckled in spite of himself, allowing the door to shut behind him.

*****

About an hour after the movie had been shut off, Richard sat on a bench outside Scott Malkinson's office. Mr. Hirsch exited the office, boisterously finishing up his orders.

"Yes, and the print is to fly back with us. Eddie, when we get there, ensure it goes in my private vault," Raoul said.  
"Absolutely, R.H.," the lawyer said.  
Raoul noticed Richard waiting for them. "Oh, Rich! You were brilliant, just brilliant in there. We saw it all from the projection room. What an actor you are, my good man! Originally I wasn't sure you could pull our little plan off, if you want to know the truth, but even I almost started to believe you had fallen in love with that guy! It is a shame I wasn't rolling--we would have won every award going for such a portrayal. Of course, there isn't a city on earth in which we could have shown it."  
"Maybe Berlin," the lawyer quipped.  
Raoul said, "I was worried for a second but leave it to Thorin's poofter lover to come up with the save. His bright idea fixed everything, leaving all our hands clean."

Richard internally winced but kept his expression cool. No one at the studio knew he was gay. His agent kept his secret very tightly. 

"Who would have ever believed the iconic Thorin Oakenshield was a fucking faggot?" Raoul chortled. "I certainly didn't see anything like _that_ in the script."  
The lawyer laughed along with him. "That's what you get for only casting one woman in your whole damned movie!"  
"Well, I can tell you I'm glad this is all over. Rich, grab your coat. We're going to go directly to the airport. Bet you can't wait to get home, eh?" Raoul clapped Richard on the back.  
"Yeah," Richard replied, smiling weakly. "You go on ahead, I think I might have left my coat in the screening room."  
"Don't dawdle," Raoul warned. "I can't wait to be on the proper coast again."

When Raoul and the lawyer walked away, Richard's smile turned to a scowl. "Arseholes," he muttered under his breath.

Richard let himself into the projection room. It suddenly seemed so dark and quiet, the white of the screen reflecting the smallest bit of ghostly grey from the light he let in from the hall. Richard stared at the blank screen for several moments, not realizing he had pressed his knuckles to his lips as he stood thinking. 

"Goddammit, Armitage!" a voice called distantly, pulling him from his thoughts. "I'm aging, here! Get your ass in gear!"

Richard took one last, deep breath and exhaled. 

"Goodbye, Bilbo," he whispered. 

He left the empty theater.

*****

Somewhere, elsewhere, in the black dreamland where movies fade after the crowds go home, Bilbo Baggins married the newly crowned King of Erebor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a short epilogue to follow.
> 
> If you've enjoyed this story, please comment and/or tell a friend. Thank you all so much <3


	11. Epilogue 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash forward to the first person in Raoul Hirch's family to follow in his footsteps, some 80-odd years after the "The Purple Rose Of Erebor" incident.

Derek Jackson and Justin Hirsch were roommates who attended film school at NYU. One lazy Saturday, early in the afternoon, Justin received a box from back home. As he pawed through it, his hums and squeaks of keen interest finally got the best of Derek's curiosity.

"What's in the box?" he asked.  
Justin had been dying for him to ask. Excited, he said, "Remember I told you how my great-great, wait, is it great-great or is it just great? Whatever. No, it was great-great. Anyway, remember I told you my great-great grandfather was sort of a big deal movie producer back in the Golden Age of Hollywood, before the studio system went tits up? When my dad's dad died, my dad spent a chunk of the inheritance having the prints that were part of his private collection restored and put on updated media so we could enjoy them without endangering the originals."  
Derek nodded, wishing he would get to the point. "Yeah. And?"  
"So, he got the updates back from whatever company he hired out and he had copies made for us kids and our cousins. I just got mine."  
Derek perked up. "Hey, that's pretty cool. Can we take a look?"

Justin and Derek sifted through the movies and made a list of the titles. They cross-referenced them with Wikipedia and IMDB to ascertain what they were about and how big of a deal they were in their day so they could figure out the best order in which to devour them. 

Derek said, "Wait, this one doesn't have any listing on IMDB at all."  
"How is that possible?"  
"I don't know, maybe it never got released?"  
Justin furrowed his brow. "No, they didn't waste film like that back then--you've seen some of the utter shit they used to put out! If it made it to print, it had to have shown somewhere. What is that one called?"  
"The Purple Rose Of Erebor."  
"Google it," Justin said, going back to the movie he was researching.

Derek was quiet for several moments. "Whoa."  
Justin looked up in interest. "What have you got?"  
"So far, a Wikipedia entry with a plot synopsis, a Something Awful forum, and a thread in the subreddit Urban Legends."  
"What?"  
"Apparently, there is a whole mystery surrounding that movie," Derek explained. "According to certain sources, a character came out of the screen during a showing of the film and was gone for two days before the movie was shut down altogether."  
Justin made a face. "What? Shut up and be serious."  
"Dude, look right here," Derek turned his laptop for Justin to see.  
Justin read, shaking his head. "That's not possible. There's no physical way that could have happened."  
"There were several witnesses, though in the years that followed it was like Roswell for them--they had a hard time getting people to believe their stories. One lady went to her grave insisting a character still onscreen argued with her and her husband. Seems the whole thing was apparently quietly resolved somehow by the studio, but nothing is clear as to how it happened. Afterward, rumor is they shut off the projector, pulled it from distribution, and no one saw it..." Derek paused for dramatic effect and put on a spooky voice. "...ever again!"  
Justin rolled his eyes. "So, what, you're saying this thing is like 'The Ring' and we'll die if we see it or something?"  
"Hold on." Derek's eyes moved as he scrolled and read. "No, nothing like that. They simply never showed it again--anywhere. People say it went in Raoul Hirsch's private stash. Your dad seems interested in preserving the family legacy. Did he or anyone ever talk about it?"  
"No, no one in my family has ever mentioned we have some sort of mystery film getting handed down from generation to generation. Funny enough, no one has tried to pursue film as a career until me, either."  
"That's a little odd in its own right, given your family history."  
Justin said, "I don't think Dad realized one of these was the subject of a conspiracy theory or he wouldn't have sent it with so little fanfare."  
"No, he probably wouldn't have," Derek said. 

Interest piqued, Justin started Googling it, too. "Looks like the star of that film was Richard Armitage," he said.  
"Richard Armitage? Like, the 1940s singer guy? Where did you find that?"  
"Subreddit. Looking him up now. Huh."  
Derek stopped reading. "What?"  
"Apparently that movie is listed in his personal credits, but there's no link to a film listing on IMDB. He only did two movies after that, too. One of them was 'The Lone Eagle' and the other one was 'An Englishman In New York.'"  
"That's right! He was in that huge Lindbergh movie! I forgot he did movies before he became a singer, but I remember it now. My high school history teacher had a huge thing for him. The other film, that New York film, was one of the old school, elaborate Hollywood musicals."  
"People must really love it--it has an 8.5 rating. Looks like when his contract ended with Blue-Mount pictures, he parlayed his popularity from the musical into a fairly successful singing career for a couple decades."

Derek clicked on his next tab, scrolling and skimming, while Justin went back to his research. 

Justin hummed in interest. "How about that?"  
"How about what?" Derek asked, only half-listening.  
"Says here Richard Armitage wrote a series of gay novels when he retired from singing. He was in his 60s by then."  
"Gay novels?"  
"Seems he came out of the closet in the really late 60s or early 70s, depending on the source. He was in some of the earliest gay pride marches after Stonewall, this fanpage says."  
"Really?" Derek asked.  
Justin tilted his head. "Yeah, and apparently mystery followed him to the very end, too."  
"Why do you say that?"  
"He always dedicated his novels to 'Bilbo and Thorin,'" Justin said. "He wrote an autobiography shortly before he died, too. It is out of print, but this fan has a scan of the dedication page:

_'Because of your influence, I played Lindbergh, I danced, I sang, I wrote, and I marched for the freedom you never had. In a way, my career was yours, too. Thank you for everything, Bilbo B.'_

Was this Bilbo guy his lover, do you think?"  
"I don't know, but it says here Thorin was the role Richard played in 'The Purple Rose Of Erebor.'"  
Justin noted, "Bilbo is such a strange name. I wonder what happens if we Google that?"

The friends quietly tapped on their keyboards and clicked through pages.

"Um, Justin?" Derek said. "A Bilbo Baggins was filed as a missing person in a suburb of Newark, New Jersey."  
"So?"  
"So he was reported missing the same year 'The Purple Rose Of Erebor' was pulled."  
"It could be coincidence," said Justin.  
Derek quickly clicked through tabs, confirming his next statement. "Maybe, but according to this forum, the subreddit, and the Wikipedia listing, the theater where the movie was pulled-"  
"-Let me guess, Newark, New Jersey?"  
"And in this Bilbo guy's neighborhood if this information is right. His cousin is the one who reported him missing. Seems he didn't pack, he didn't take anything of value, but he never returned and no trace was ever found."  
An involuntary shiver went through Justin. "When you say it like that, it makes this story a little creepier."  
Derek agreed, "Yeah, it has the makings of a Twilight Zone episode or something. Wasn't that around the depression, though? It is possible some guy just killed him for his shoes and dumped the body in the river or something."  
"True, or maybe it wasn't the same Bilbo at all."  
Derek pointed out, "Bilbo is a weird name, but maybe it is one of those old-timey names like Silex or Horace."  
"Fair enough," Justin conceded. "Do any of your forums say whether they recovered this Thorin guy before they shut off the movie?"  
Derek paused to skim the rest of the forum he was on and to check the other tab. He answered, "No. There's no mention of what happened to Thorin once he allegedly walked off screen. If he ever came back, either no one saw it or no one was willing to talk."  
"Man, I wish my great-great grandfather Hirsch was alive to ask. He's the one who saved the print to begin with," Justin sighed.  
"We're probably getting all freaked out over nothing, you know. It was probably one rumor and it blew up into some creepy urban legend-style Old Hollywood ghost story to pass around on the internet. Hell, some crazy fanboy or fangirl might have made the whole Bilbo thing up in the 70s based on the dedications to those books. Honestly, it could be as simple as Bilbo being that Armitage guy's own grandfather or a favorite older relative who influenced him, someone who didn't have the freedom to be out of the closet, that sort of thing." He clicked shut his laptop. "We should just watch it."  
"Right now?"  
"Sure. I'll order a pizza and we'll sit here and find out what the big deal was. There's probably a logical explanation for all of it. Maybe it was pulled from theaters because it was just awful, or maybe it offended the Hays Office or something."

*****

Once the pizza came, Justin and Derek settled on the couch to watch "The Purple Rose Of Erebor," produced by Justin's great-great grandfather about eight decades prior.

They paused the film when Thorin's company met up with Bilbo at The Green Dragon.

"See?" Derek said. "That's our mystery Bilbo, not the missing Bilbo Baggins guy. Richard Armitage was probably dedicating his gay novels to Bilbo and Thorin because he thought it should have been a love story all along. They would have never let that happen in a film in those days. Maybe he was a slash guy back before anyone even called it slash."

They resumed the movie, exchanging an odd look the first time Thorin took Bilbo in his arms and kissed him soundly.

Raising an eyebrow, Justin said, "I think we've got our answer as to why this was pulled from distribution. A gay kiss was plenty enough to have done it."  
"And no one thought Richard Armitage was gay until he came out in his 60s?" Derek asked, incredulous. "That was a pretty intense kiss. One of my teachers told me that back in those days, they did little more than brush lips. Ronald Reagan once said that for the really passionate clinches, they would angle away from the camera and just press their cheeks together because open mouths weren't allowed."  
"I'm surprised the controversy about the movie online didn't mention this," remarked Justin.

Time and again, Bilbo worked in tandem with members of the company or struck out bravely on his own to keep his friends and his lover from injury and harm. Bilbo and Thorin, together, triumphed over Azog, saving the lives of Fíli and Kíli in the process. For the last scene, Bilbo and Thorin stood at an altar in Erebor. They were both crowned by Gandalf, one as Prince Consort and the other as king. Thorin gave Bilbo a huge rose afterward. 

"I guess that was the rose from which we got our title? Can't really tell red from purple when the film is black and white," Derek observed. 

On the television, Thorin spoke passionately. _"You really did it, Bilbo Baggins. You saved us all, just as you promised. Now we can be happy forever, dreaming or not."_

"Oh my god," Justin gasped. "Did you hear?"  
"Bilbo Baggins," Derek breathed, hardly willing to believe it. 

Thorin swept Bilbo into another deep, emotional kiss before the film faded out and the credits rolled. 

Derek shook his head. "Could it be? Could it really be _that_ Bilbo Baggins?"  
Justin began tapping him frantically. "Derek, Derek! He's not in the credits!"  
"Who isn't?"  
"Bilbo. There is no actor listed for Bilbo, no character listing. It is as though...as though he wasn't there when the credits were typeset."

Derek opened his laptop again, Googling "Bilbo Baggins" and "The Purple Rose Of Erebor." He tried several permutations, but didn't find any mention of an actor or the character. He went back to the Wikipedia plot synopsis. 

"Justin?" Derek said nervously. "This plot synopsis, this isn't the movie we just watched. Or, rather, it is half the movie we just watched."  
Justin screwed up his face in confusion. "What?"  
"There is no Bilbo Baggins. Thorin meets the wizard and they still follow the basic plot, but there is no Bilbo character. In the end, Thorin and his nephews die in the battle."  
Justin put a hand over his mouth. "Shit," he whispered.  
Derek bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah, okay, so now I'm completely freaked out, too."  
"What do we do?" Justin asked.  
"I don't know. Do we tell someone?" Derek held up his hands helplessly. "Who would believe us?"  
Shrugging, Justin said, "The internet?"  
"Hardly. The internet doesn't even really believe those other people, otherwise it would be on IMDB instead of Something Awful."

They sat in silence for a little while. 

"Maybe...maybe we don't need to tell anyone," Justin said.  
"What do you mean?"  
"They pulled the movie, kept it a secret, and it was kept in my great-great grandfather's private storage, my great grandfather's, and so on. Let's say everything we're sitting here suspecting is true--Thorin came down, took Bilbo back, and Bilbo saved him. They were obviously in love, which was terribly taboo. So taboo, in fact, that people from that era vehemently denied being gay for years, some all the way up until their deaths. Somehow, this Bilbo guy seemed to help Richard Armitage be brave enough to come out--not just come out, even, but to march and to write gay novels--so he must have had a profound influence on him, but think about it. Richard never talked about it, other than to dedicate books to them. What does that mean? At this point, we can only guess about the things that might have happened back then, anyway. Somehow, for some reason, it has been decades since this all went down, whatever it was, but there have been little more than whispers in the dark. Maybe we just--maybe we let it go. Maybe some things are bigger than ourselves."  
Derek thought a moment. "I was thinking a discovery like this could put us in the history books, maybe help us launch our own film careers, but let's face it. The reality is we're more than likely going to be labeled as conspiracy nuts and kicked out of film school."  
"So this will be our secret?"  
"Yes, our secret." Derek agreed.  
"Good."

Derek glanced at the stack of other movies Justin's dad sent. Grinning mischievously, he said, "So...what's next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone <3


End file.
